


Life Unexpected

by Miss_Peg



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Alternative Future, Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Lost Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Peg/pseuds/Miss_Peg
Summary: Four months after Ripley died, Vic is learning to cope in the world without him. Life at Station 19 is getting back to normal. Until a surprise visitor arrives, and everything changes once more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I opened the floodgates and fic ideas keep coming out. It's a good job I'm currently unemployed, because it's giving me plenty of time to write. In between applying for jobs and attending interviews. Don't worry, I know I have three stories on the go. I've always been one for having multiple stories going at once. I have time. I have motivation. We're good.
> 
> Disclaimer: Station 19 is not mine. I just play at being a firefighter.

The bookcases tilted at a precarious angle over the sleeping infant. By the time Hughes and Miller arrived in the room, the nanny was sobbing uncontrollably. Hughes glanced at Miller, who looked back.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure she’s safe,” Hughes said, resting a hand on the woman’s shoulder. She nodded.

Miller stepped in front of the bookcases beside Hughes, and together they pushed them back against the wall. Within seconds, the nanny rushed forward and scooped the little girl into her arms.

“Thank you, so much, I can’t believe…” her voice disappeared into continued sobs as she cradled the baby.

“You’re welcome.” Miller moved her slowly away from the danger zone. “You should probably get someone to secure the bookcases to the wall. You’re damn lucky they were wedged in place. If it wasn’t for the walls, or each other, they’d have gone straight down.”

“I will. I’ll speak to the family.” She nodded her head profusely. The baby started to cry. “Right away.”

“Best stay out of this room until it’s done,” Hughes said, leaning towards the baby and stroking her cheek. Her face, contorted in anguish, quickly changed to a smile and she giggled softly. Hughes grinned back, sticking out her tongue.

The nanny shifted the baby’s position against her hip, as she walked them out of the front door. “Do you have kids?”

“No.” Hughes shrugged. “No. None.”

“Shame. You’re really good with her.”

As they headed for the engine, a car pulled up and a woman ran towards the house, looking hysterical. Miller pressed his lips together, until they sat down in their seats in the engine and he burst out laughing.

“You’re really good with her,” he said in a high pitched tone.

Hughes smacked him across the arm. “Shut up.”

X

Back at the station, Hughes and Montgomery were out the front by the ladder. Montgomery pushed the trolley full of oxygen tanks along the side. Hughes opened the door and picked up a bottle, placing it on the shelf. She turned back to Montgomery and sighed.

“He was mocking me,” she said, picking up a second bottle.

Montgomery raised an eyebrow. “Vic, it’s Dean. We all mock each other all the time.”

She placed the bottle beside the first and went to pick up another one. “This was…different.”

“Why?”

“I don’t…I dunno.”

She didn’t know what was going on with her lately but every time she saw a baby it made her feel…something. It wasn’t that she felt ready to be a parent, on the contrary. She was only ever going to marry Ripley because fate had decided that it was the only way they could be together, which made it feel right. She wanted to be with him, and that was all that mattered in that moment.

Until he died.

“Wrong shelf,” Montgomery said, pointing at the red capped bottle. “You know your caps, you’ve schooled me on this before.”

She rolled her eyes and retrieved the bottle, placing it on the correct shelf. “When Michael died, did you ever think about what your future should have been like?”

“Like daydreaming?”

She closed the doors on the ladder and walked through the station door to the engine. Montgomery followed, pushing the trolley behind her. “No. More picturing your life, like it could still happen.”

“Yeah. All the time. I still do it now, occasionally.”

It comforted her to know it wasn’t just her, that her feelings, whatever they were, were normal. She pulled on the handle and opened the engine doors. “Just red caps.”

He handed her a bottle. “Wanna tell me what you’ve been thinking about?”

“Babies.” She locked eyes with him as she said it, searching for his first response, before he had time to process it. But he was difficult to read. She placed the bottle on the shelf. He still didn’t speak, which sent her into overdrive. “I don’t want a baby, not right now, but I can’t stop thinking about them. Or if I see them I have to act like I know what the hell I’m doing. I don’t know why. I haven’t pictured myself having kids for years yet. It’s freaking me out.”

“Miller mocking you interacting with the baby pissed you off.”

“Exactly.”

“I used to think about babies.”

She smiled and turned to face him. “You did?”

“About a year after. We’d talked about whether wanted a family before we got married and we always said it’d be a few years. After Michael died, it eventually felt like it would have been the right time. But he wasn’t here anymore.”

“It passes, though, right?”

“Should do.” Montgomery walked around the trolley and started filling the shelf.

Hughes stepped to one side. “Thanks, Trav.”

“Anytime.”

X

The team sat around the table, passing bread and bowls of soup around until everyone was eating and chatting. Hughes sat in silence, watching the team go about their usual meal break. She dipped some bread into her soup and bit off a soggy piece. Some days it felt like everything was right with the world, and for the first time in a while, today was one of those days.

“You okay?” Montgomery asked, leaning in close.

She nodded. “Peachy.”

“I can’t believe Warren’s gone,” Gibson said, placing the newly filled bread plate in the centre of the table and sitting back down with a piece of bread. “Really thought he wasn’t gonna make it to Medic One after what happened with the wildfire. I guess they just needed more time.”

Miller placed his spoon into his empty bowl and folded his arms. “They saw he was the right person for the job in the end, that’s all that matters.”

“I’m gonna miss him,” Bishop said, sitting back against her chair. “Though I won’t miss how much his socks smelled when he took off his boots.”

The team was changing. For a long while it had been the same. Then Captain Herrera left, Captain Sullivan joined, and they had just started finding a new normal when he went on extended leave. Hughes missed him, more than she expected.

“Hopefully Sullivan’s back before the new recruit starts.” Hughes picked up her bowl and piled it on top of Miller’s, then carried them to the dishwasher. “He said he’s supposed to be getting out of rehab any day.”

“You…you talked to him?” Herrera asked, her eyebrows tugged together.

Hughes shrugged and filled the dishwasher. “We talk sometimes. Mostly about Ripley.”

X

Hughes put some wax onto her cloth and rubbed it on the fire engine’s door. Each methodical movement was relaxing. She used to hate cleaning the engine, but since Ripley died, it gave her time to think, and process. She counted the number of movements it took to clean each panel, focusing on the task, on the action, on the feel of the cloth in her hand. She could hear Miller and Bishop upstairs in the gym, pounding the punching bag. Herrera was on the phone. Montgomery and Gibson were out getting supplies. There was a sense of calm over the station, and though she knew it could be interrupted at any moment, it felt good.

“Hey.”

She turned, the cloth dropped from her hand. A man stood in the doorway, his sandy blond hair hung loose over the front of his head, scattered with soft curls. His eyes, piercing blue, made his whole face stand out as utterly beautiful. But it was the similarity to the man she loved that made her step back, colliding with the engine. She slipped and landed on the floor.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He walked toward her. She was alone in the barn with someone she didn’t know. His close proximity should have frightened her, but she felt instantly comfortable in his presence.

She shook her head and accepted his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. It couldn’t be. Ripley was dead. But her heart thrummed against her chest, and her whole body felt like she’d been sucker punched in the gut. She opened her mouth to speak but no words formed.

“Seriously, I’m sorry.” He frowned. Her lack of words made him confused. She could see it on his face. On his Ripley-like face.

Hughes finally found her voice, but it cracked as she spoke. “Who, who, who are you?”

He held out his hand again and she went to shake it, hesitating before her fingers could touch his once more. The crease between his eyebrows only deepened as he lowered his hand. “Christopher Anderson.”

“Right.” She shrugged, trying to push aside the confusion forcing its way through her already broken heart. “Who…what are you…why are you here?”

“I’m looking for Victoria Hughes; do you know where I might find her?”

The first sucker punch hit her again. Her whole body felt like it was about to give up. She couldn’t breathe. It had been months since Ripley’s death. Four, to be exact. Every day felt that little bit easier. Until something happened and it was like taking ten steps back.

“I…that…me…that’s me. I’m Victoria Hughes.” She cleared her throat. “Who are you again?”

His face softened into a gentle smile, so like Ripley’s that Hughes wanted to turn tail and run out of the room. The closer she looked, the more she could see that he was not identical to the love of her life. But the familiarity in the way he moved his face cut deep. Her heart couldn’t cope with the pain. Not now. Not today. She bent down and picked up her cloth, anything to distract her for the briefest moment.

“You don’t know me, and I don’t know you,” he said, holding out his hands as he spoke. “But I heard about you from…my aunt, I guess. Jennifer.”

The revelation shouldn’t have surprised her. Hughes had seen it the second he walked in. How much he was like him. She just didn’t really expect that he could be, in any way, related.

“I’m Lucas Ripley’s son.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently all I want to do right now is write this fic, which is great. Motivation is fantastic. Except that I have a job assessment tomorrow, and an interview/presentation on Wednesday, so I really should be preparing for them. Alas, Vic is all I want to think about...
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone for the amazing response!

“No.” She stared into his eyes. A stranger’s eyes. The same colour but so different.

He narrowed his eyes. “No?”

“No,” she said again. “You’re not. You can’t be. This is some kind of sick joke and I don’t know who sent you here but what you’re doing is not okay.”

“I’m telling the truth.” He took a step back, hurt flashed across his eyes. For the briefest moment, Hughes felt guilty. “Please. I just came to talk.”

“Get. Out.” She lifted her hand toward the door. He stared her down. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. When she opened them again, his eyes were still fixed on her. His mouth curved into the most familiar smile.

“Come on, Victoria.”

The way he said her name dug deep into her heart. She closed her eyes again. The familiarity of his tone broke her. She lifted her head, her hand still raised towards the door. When she spoke again, her voice was loud and booming. “Get out of here!”

He turned tail and rushed back through the door. Hughes leant forward, her hands on her knees as each breath felt like she had a weight sitting on her chest. She lowered herself down to the ground, still clutching the cloth in her hands.

“Vic?” Montgomery ran into the room, rushing to her side. “What happened? What did that man do to you?”

“Nothing.” She stood up. She brushed tears from her cheek and sniffed. “I’m fine.”

“I tried to catch him but he got into a car and left,” Gibson said, joining Montgomery beside Hughes. “I tried to get his license number but he was gone before I could make a note.”

She shook her head, averting their gaze. “Just leave it.”

“We’re not gonna leave it, Vic. If he hurt you,” Montgomery said.

“He didn’t hurt me, okay?” she shouted, unbuttoning the top buttons of her uniform and rushing towards the exit. “I need to take some personal time.”

Gibson looked to Montgomery as Hughes left the building. “What the hell just happened?”

“I have no idea.”

X

Hughes walked until her feet grew tired and she didn’t really know where she was anymore. The street changed from houses to stores and back to houses again. Her jaw ached from her clenched teeth. Houses changed to grass and she walked through a park. She kicked off her boots and felt the grass between her toes. It grounded her. She lay down and stared at the sky, at the clouds as they formed shapes overhead. Everything felt that much harder, but the fresh air, trees and blue sky settled her thoughts. She lay in silence wondering what Ripley would make of everything. What excuses he would have.

Her cellphone rang. She slipped it out of her pocket and answered it. “Hey, Jenn.”

“Hi,” Jennifer said. “How is everything? I wanted to check in.”

“Everything’s…okay.” She didn’t want to let anyone in to her bubble. The grief was bad enough at times, she just needed a moment.

“Great. Look, I don’t know if he’s dropped by yet, but I know he’s planning on coming to see you.”

“Wh, who?” she asked, knowing the answer before she gave it.

“Christopher. Luke’s son. We had no idea.”

“Yeah…no. I’ve not.” The lie fell out before she could stop herself. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth again. She hated lying to the people she cared about. She was a hopeless liar when it didn’t really matter, but when it did; she hated how easily it could come. “Luke didn’t…”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“He…he didn’t have a son.”

“He didn’t know, Vic.” The truth hit her hard. As much as she didn’t want to think about Ripley lying to her about having a child, hearing that he didn’t actually know made the whole thing feel that much harder. She didn’t speak. “If you see him, again, or at all, please just give him some time.”

“Yeah. Sure.” She said a brief goodbye and hung up the phone, barely registering the three missed calls and messages from Montgomery before returning it to her pocket. She breathed methodically, focusing on each slow breath. The clouds barely moved. The sun shone hot against her face. A slight chill showed the first signs of Fall.

X

When her Uber pulled up outside the station, the streetlights had come on and the doors were closed. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have assumed they’d all gone home for the night. She reached into her pocket for her key, before remembering that she hadn’t taken it with her. She was lucky she hadn’t put her cellphone in her locker like she usually did. She tried the door, but as expected, it was locked. She pressed the bell and waited. The engine, ladder and aid car were still inside, so they hadn’t gone out on a call. They’d be eating by now.

“Hey, Vic!” Herrera smiled as she opened the door. “You okay? Montgomery said you had to take some time. I’d prefer you come to me first next time, I know I’m only acting Captain but we really should follow protocol. I’ll let it slide, this time.”

“I’m okay. Sorry, I should have.” She knew the truth in her words was weak, and Herrera didn’t look like she believed her. But they didn’t say another word on the matter. She stepped into the station and clapped her hands together. “What’s for dinner?”

“Maya’s made her famous tuna bake.”

Hughes rolled her eyes and groaned. “Seriously? That one time she made it with salmon was the best. I hate tuna.”

“Miller made salad, just in case you came back.” Clearing her throat, Hughes followed Herrera up the stairs. “Everyone, look who’s back!”

“Just in time for your favourite,” Bishop said, shrugging. “Sorry but somebody forgot to get salmon at the market.”

Gibson rolled his eyes. “Somebody didn’t remember to put it on the shopping list.”

“About time,” Montgomery shouted, jumping up and wrapping his arms around her.

The affection took Hughes by surprise and she settled into his arms instantly. Fresh tears skirted along her cheeks and landed on his shoulder. She gripped the back of his uniform and burrowed her face against the side of his neck.

“Hey,” he whispered, running a hand along her back. “You wanna go somewhere and talk?”

“Okay.” She let go and turned around, wiping her face. She headed for the bunks.

“Did you lie to me before?” Montgomery asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. They sat down on her bed. “Did that man do something? You can talk to me, Vic. Whatever happened.”

“He’s Lucas’s son.”

Open mouthed, Montgomery turned around. “Excuse me, what?”

“He said he was Lucas’s son.”

“Is he telling the truth?”

“Jenn seems to think so.”

“And you?”

She looked away. The face etched in her memory made the conversation harder than she could bear. But she couldn’t do this alone, not anymore.

“He looks like him. Not identical. You’d be forgiven for not realising if you didn’t know. It’s the way he smiled, and talked, and…he’s his son. I’m certain of it.”

X

That night Hughes tossed and turned. No major calls came in, except for the aid car, which meant she could sleep, but her brain wouldn’t shut down and her heart ached. She longed for the week before where she’d reached a calm place. Memory of Lucas Ripley hurt, but she was finally reaching a new normal, that made each day that much easier. Now she was back to sleepless nights and insurmountable pain coursing through her veins.

By morning, she felt as though she’d been called out a dozen times. She ate breakfast in silence, surrounded by cheerful and happy colleagues, who were all grateful for a quiet night.

“I just got a call from Frankel,” Herrera said, sitting down and grabbing a slice of toast. “He’s not starting until next week, but our new recruit is coming for a visit.”

“He good?” Bishop asked.

Herrera shrugged. “Depends how you define good. He was top of his class in the academy. He’s young, but he’s apparently got a passion for firefighting. Frankel speaks highly of him.”

“Tough crowd, he must be good.”

“He’ll be here in thirty minutes, so I want everyone downstairs and ready in fifteen,” Herrera said, buttering her toast. “We’ll be doing a uniform inspection, make a good impression.”

Hughes cleared her breakfast dishes and headed to her locker to finish getting ready. She rubbed her tired eyes and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Nothing would make the bags under her eyes go away, and she was so exhausted she didn’t think she’d make much of a good impression on anyone.

She met the rest of the team in the barn where they lined up. Herrera inspected their uniform, and though Hughes realised too late that she’d forgotten to put on her badge, she was thankful when Herrera said nothing about it in front of the team.

“Hughes,” she said, pulling her aside. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Didn’t sleep well,” she said, looking around the room. “I’ll be better.”

“Okay. Go get your badge and we’ll line up out the front to greet the new guy.”

She ran up the stairs and back down as quickly as she could, attaching her badge to her uniform. Hughes went outside and lined up beside Bishop.

“That must be him,” Bishop whispered, motioning to a car pulling up in the parking lot.

“Wait, where’s Gibson?” Miller turned around.

Herrera stood up straight. “He’ll be down in a minute; we’ll get started without him.”

A young man climbed out of the car. His sandy blonde curls shone under the Fall sun. Piercing blue eyes stared out across the team. He walked over, and shook Herrera’s hand. Hughes took a sharp intake of breath as their eyes locked.

“Everyone, this is Christopher Anderson. Our new recruit.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the response, it's all very much appreciated, and helps motivate me to keep going. I had a job thing today, so just managed to finish my chapter I started yesterday. I have a big big big job thing tomorrow, but I have to get the train, so hoping I'll be able to write and won't be too frazzled from the bigness of it all.

“What are you doing here?” Gibson appeared from behind the group and marched forward, grasping holding of Anderson’s shirt. He pulled him towards him. “You have some nerve showing your face here again.”

“Gibson, stop!” Herrera shouted.

Startled, Hughes covered her mouth with her hand. Christopher Anderson looked petrified. Hughes couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She closed her eyes and hoped beyond hope that somehow everything would right itself.

Montgomery rushed forward, much to Hughes’ relief, pulling Gibson away. “He’s okay. He’s the new recruit.”

“Get off me!” Gibson shrugged Montgomery's hands off his shoulders, with a scowl on his face. He stepped back, his chest heaving with every breath, his arms up at the side of his head,l.

Herrera turned to Anderson. “I am so sorry. I don’t know...I’ll be speaking to Lieutenant Gibson about this later.”

“Interesting welcome,” Anderson said, straightening out his shirt. He glanced from Gibson, to Hughes, and finally back to Herrera. He smiled, but his face was taut. “I hope you guys are friendlier once I get to know you.”

“Welcome to the team, Anderson,” Bishop said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. “I can assure you, you’re meeting the team on an off day. I’m Lieutenant Bishop.”

Herrera motioned to the group. “This is Montgomery, Miller, and Hughes. She’ll be your mentor.”

Hughes looked up, her mouth agape. “_What?_ No. I can’t.”

It felt like her stomach dropped. Hughes closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t be part of this. Not now. Not ever. She tried to stay calm, but the whole situation was too out of hand.

Standing up a little straighter, Herrera stepped in front of Hughes. “As Captain, I am telling you that you are mentoring the new recruit. If you have a problem with that, then I will see you in my office just as soon as we’re done here.”

Hughes nodded her head and turned around, heading back inside.

“Gibson, please wait outside my office. I’ll speak to you when I’m done with Hughes. Anderson, please accept my sincerest apologies. Bishop, can you show Anderson upstairs, get him a drink. I’ll be back as soon as.”

X

When Herrera entered the room, Hughes stood up. Having Herrera come down hard on her was something Hughes didn’t expect. They were friends, and the new dynamic to their relationship was something that surprised her. Herrera sat down in her seat and clasped her hands on her desk. She motioned for Hughes to sit.

“I don’t know what that was out there, but that behaviour is not acceptable. Anderson is the newest member of our team and you are to treat him with the same respect you treat everyone else. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Hughes blinked repeatedly. She chewed on her bottom lip in an attempt to ward off the threat of tears.

“Now, what is your problem with being his mentor? Is this to do with why Gibson nearly assaulted him?”

“I…” she couldn’t find the words. The threat of tears was too intense. She glanced upward and shook her head. “I’ll do it. If I must.”

“That wasn’t what I asked, Hughes.” Herrera leant forwards, her tone softened. “Vic, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She stood up. Her voice broke under the strain. Tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. Can I go?”

Herrera stared at Hughes for a moment, a creased formed between her eyebrows. “Okay. You can go. Please send Gibson in.”

She stood outside the room. Her cheeks stained with tears. She could hear the argument ensuing on the other side of the door. It was all her fault. Gibson had some warped idea about what had happened the day before, and instead of correcting him, she’d let him near enough assault Ripley’s son. She took the stairs two at a time. In the entrance to the kitchen, she could hear his voice, so like his father’s. She turned again and rushed into the turnout room.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” Montgomery’s voice boomed down on her. Hughes took it, merely listened to him berate her. Her back turned to his words. “Jack could have hit him. You need to tell him what’s going on. Herrera needs to know.”

“_No._” Hughes spun around, her finger out in front of her, her voice abrupt and angry. “Nobody needs to know. There is nothing to tell. That man is our new recruit. If he wants everyone to know who his father is, then he will tell everybody. Until then, keep your mouth shut.”

Montgomery’s eyes grew wide, his mouth sat open. She’d taken it a step too far; she could see it on his face. But she’d said the words out loud now, and nothing could take them back. She didn’t want to take back the meaning behind her harsh demand.

“Fine.” He marched past her, and started banging his turnout gear about.

The finality of the word sent Hughes’ head into a spin. In the space of twenty-four hours she’d set herself on a course, a downward spiral, where everything felt so much harder to handle. She couldn’t see an end, a gap through which to crawl her way out. Not without saying the things that ran through her mind at supersonic speed. She was messing everything up, and as much as she knew she needed to stop, she couldn’t.

She left him to his banging and walked along the corridor back towards the bunks. Her eyes were red, her cheeks damp. She opened the supply closet and closed the door behind her; anything for a moment of privacy. She stared straight ahead, at a shelf full of notepads, and screen wipes. She reached out and held onto the shelving unit to steady herself as she let out long, painful sobs. A burst of anger rose up and she pulled the pads and wipes off the shelf, tossing them to the floor and stamping all over them. She screamed loudly, banging her fist against the metal frame.

Righting herself again, Hughes stepped out of the closet and came face to face with Herrera, who stood with her arms folded.

“I think you should go home.”

“I’m fine,” Hughes said, wiping her eyes. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not. I don’t know what is going on, or how any of this is connected to what happened with Gibson, or Anderson. But you’re no good to us when you’re like this, Vic. You need to sort out whatever it going on inside your head before it becomes too big for you to handle.”

“Please, Andy,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes once more. “I need to be here.”

“I need my team to be at their best. I need you to be capable of doing your job. I can’t have you falling apart in the closet. Not on the job. Go home, Victoria.”

X

Hughes didn’t go home. Instead she drove across town to the rehabilitation centre where Sullivan was. She didn’t know why she went there. She’d only been once, shortly after he arrived. After that they spoke occasionally on the phone.

“Vic!” He stood up, placing a book on the small table by his window, his arms inviting her toward him.

She walked across the room and wrapped her arms around him. A few months before the very thought of having any physical contact with their Captain was unthinkable. Today she needed one of his hugs. He sighed and pulled his arms tightly around her.

“Bad day?”

She stepped back, and wiped a few tears from her nose. “Worst frickin’ day in a long time. Yesterday this kid shows up at the station claiming to be Luke’s son. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Lucas has a son?”

She ignored his question, her arms flying out in front as every word caused more and more animation, every word coming out faster than the one before. “So I shouted at him, which made Gibson and Montgomery think he’d hurt me, or something. I left. I couldn’t be there anymore and I just walked and walked like I didn’t have a job to go back to. But get this, this morning he turns up at the station again. He’s only our newest frickin’ recruit.”

“He’s a firefighter? How old is he?”

The words kept flowing. She needed to say them, no interruptions. “He’s gonna be at Station 19 every day. He’s gonna be working alongside me like he’s not already this horrible reminder that Lucas isn’t here. Herrera wants me to mentor him. She doesn’t know of course, how do I tell her? How do I even say it out loud without wanting to cry and shout and scream? Jennifer claims Luke didn’t know, but how couldn’t he know? He’s a grown adult. He’s had a grown adult son all these years. He had to know. He had to have lied to me, how could he? How could...?”

Sullivan stepped forward and pulled her back into his arms. The rest of the words disappeared into the muffled sounds she made against his shirt. Tears flowed freely. She could feel a wet patch form on Sullivan’s front. She wanted to say something, to apologise, but his grip was too tight and in that moment it was all she needed.


	4. Chapter 4

Hughes sat in Herrera’s office for the second time in two days. She felt like a naughty school kid called into the principal’s office, despite having asked to meet with her. She cupped her hands in her lap, and waited for Herrera to sit down at her desk. She didn’t. Instead she pulled up a chair on the same side of the desk as Hughes.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?” Herrera asked, her smile friendly and comforting.

“I...” She didn’t quite know what her response to that question was going to be. She stared at Herrera’s hands, resting on her knees, relaxed. She looked up again. “I recently found out that Christopher Anderson is claiming to be Lucas Ripley’s son.”

Herrera opened her mouth, then closed it again; repeating the action a couple of times. Hughes waited. “I didn’t know he had a son.”

Shifting in her seat, Hughes shrugged. “Supposedly, neither did Lucas.”

“Oh.”

“I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do with that information and I took it badly. Gibson reacted the way he did because he saw Anderson leave the barn, and I was on the floor in tears. Whatever reprimand you have for him, please take that into account.”

“Duly noted.” Herrera took Hughes’ hand and held it tightly. “I know me being captain is weird. It’s weird for me too. I know I wanted it, and it’s not like it’s the first time. But we’re still friends, Vic. You don’t need to feel like you’re alone with this.”

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing Herrera’s hand. She let go and sat back. “I don’t know how to talk about this with other people. Travis understands what it’s like to lose someone you love in the line of duty. Sullivan understands what it’s like to lose Lucas.”

Herrera narrowed her eyes, sitting up a little straighter as she cleared her throat. “You, you...you talked to Sullivan?”

Hughes raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think I don’t notice your reaction any time I mention his name.”

“What, what reaction?”

She merely stared back. “He does it too, you know? When I talk about you.”

“Why...” she paused, conscious of her words. “Why would you mention me?”

“I talk about work.” She shrugged. “He misses you.”

“He...does?”

“He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t say much. But he asks about you.”

“I’m sure he’s keeping tabs on everyone,” she said, relaxing into her seat again.

“Not really.”

“I should,” Herrera stood up and motioned to the door. “We should...get back to work. My door’s always open.”

“Thanks, Andy.”

She stood holding the door, waiting for Hughes to leave the room. “You seem brighter. I’m glad. I’ll give Anderson to Montgomery, if it’s easier for you.”

She hesitated. She didn’t really know what she wanted. “Can I think about it?”

“Sure. Take some time. He’ll be back here next week. The first few days I’ll pair him up with everyone. Give him chance to get to know us all properly.”

X

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Hughes asked, linking arms with Sullivan. He stared her down. “I know. But working reception is not resting at home.”

He groaned. “I’ve been resting for months, Vic. All I’ve done is rest, and do rehab exercises. Now they’ve released me, I can relax and get back to bothering you guys.”

“I know they’ll all be happy to see you.” Hughes pressed her lips together. “I know Andy misses you.”

“Don’t start that again.” He rolled his eyes. Hughes pushed open the door to Station 19. “Whatever was going on between Andy and me is over. She hasn’t been to see me. She clearly isn’t interested.”

“You know what you are?” He shrugged. “You’re stubborn. You’re both stubborn. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not worth it. After all, you’re both too stubborn to make it work. You’ll just drive each other insane.”

“Hey, wait a minute, that’s not what I said.”

“So you do want to be with her?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“You don’t need to.” Hughes stopped beside the reception desk and Sullivan sat down. “If you’re worried about protocol, or whatever bureaucratic nonsense that might be problematic, don’t be. They had the sense to make some changes. But only when there’s one rank difference, so don’t be getting any ideas about becoming Chief or anything.”

Laughing, Sullivan adjusted his seat. “Can you really picture me as a pencil pusher?”

Hughes shrugged. “Could you picture Lucas?”

“Actually, yeah. He was always driven. Right from day one. He had dreams and he wasn’t about to let anything step in his way.”

“What kind of lesson can we learn from this?” Hughes asked, resting her thumb and forefinger against her chin. “Hmm. W.W.R.D?”

“W.W. what?”

“What would Ripley do?”

“Are you seriously using a ‘what would Jesus do’ variation on me? About Lucas?”

“Sure. Why not?” She grinned. “So, what would Ripley do in this situation?”

“Ask you to marry him, apparently.”

“Yeah...maybe don’t do that.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “But he did go for it, regardless of the rules. The only difference is you don’t have rules stepping in your way anymore.”

Sullivan didn’t say anything. He leant over the edge of his seat and tried to adjust the height.

“Hey guys!” Herrera said, exiting her office.

Suddenly, Sullivan sullen shrunk as his seat moved to the lowest height. He looked up, his eyes wide. “Oh. Hi.”

Hughes pressed her lips together to ward off an impending smile. “I’ll see you guys later. I have to get changed.”

X

Dressed in her uniform, Hughes entered the kitchen. She stopped dead. In the excitement of bringing Sullivan to the station, she’d forgotten about the other big event happening that day. The new recruit’s first day. She cleared her throat and walked towards him, her hand outstretched.

“Welcome to Station 19.”

He turned, and upon noticing Hughes’ hand, he stared at it for a moment before accepting the handshake. “Thank you.”

She stepped from one foot to the other, unsure of what to say, or how to say it. The day had started out well, and she hoped that things would only get better, if only for Sullivan and Herrera. She forged a smile.

“I think we got off to a bad start, and for that I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what it’s like for someone to turn up out of the blue and claim to be your dead fiancés son, but I think I get it.”

“Really?” She narrowed her eyes. “Care to explain it to me because I really don’t? I mean, you don’t really look like him, but you look like him. You sound like him. You say he didn’t know you but the way you are is so like him that I don’t even know how to deal with that.”

A slight smile crept onto his face. Hughes frowned. He pushed it aside, though the corner of his mouth still curved upwards. “Aunt Jenn did a really good job at describing you. Other than last week, I didn’t really know what to expect but you’re exactly how she said you’d be.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a complement, or not.”

“Believe me, it’s a compliment.” He stood with his hands behind his back. “Look, I know this is weird. It’s weird for me too. I don’t want it to mess up what we need to do here. I want to be a firefighter and I don’t want to ruin that because of whatever history we have together.”

“Or not…” Hughes crossed her arms across her front and shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t want to get to know you, new guy.”

“Anderson. Or Christopher.”

“For now you’re the new guy,” she said. “But all of this is so new. Lucas has only been gone a few months, and you…nobody even knew you existed. Now you’re working here. It’s a lot.”

“I know.”

She motioned towards the door. “Follow me, there’s someone I think you should meet.”

X

“I’m not saying I don’t want to try,” Herrera said. “I’m just scared that if we go there again, the same thing is gonna happen.”

Sullivan sighed. “My leg is getting better; this isn’t going to happen again.”

“Not necessarily your leg. Anything. The next time you have something you’re too scared to share with me. Or you don’t want to confront something.”

“Err,” Hughes took the last couple of steps down to the first floor. “Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to introduce the new guy.”

“Oh. I…I think we’ve met,” Herrera said, then shook her head and headed towards her office.

Sullivan stood a little taller, his eyes fixed on Christopher Anderson. “You’re Lucas’s kid?”

“Yes. Sir.” Anderson mirrored his stature.

“This is Sully, Sullivan…Captain Sullivan to you.” Hughes smiled at Sullivan and gave a little shrug. “He was your dad’s best friend.”

“Oh. Captain Sullivan, it’s an honour, Sir. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Depends who’s been telling you about me as to whether that’s good. I’m not sure if I knew your mother, or…”

“Aunt Jenn. My mom and dad were together before he joined the fire department.”

“Welcome to Station 19,” he said, holding out his hand.


	5. Chapter 5

“Faster!” Hughes shouted, watching the numbers change on the stop watch. Anderson ran as fast as he could, the hose in his arms, as he trailed it along the stairwell. Hughes glanced from the stop watch over the barrier. “Come on, Anderson! I could do this faster in my sleep!”

He tripped, falling onto the stairs in front of him. She stared at him from above. Waited. Watched. “I’m tired.”

“I don’t care,” Hughes said. “You get up and you keep moving. Come on. Knees up.”

He pushed himself off the stairs and back to his feet. He stumbled on the next step. “It’s too hard.”

“You’ve gotta be tougher than this, Anderson. Get moving, now.”

“Stop.” He knelt on the step and leant against the hose. “I’m exhausted. I can’t move.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Hughes said, walking down the stairs toward him. “The only way you can do this is to keep going.”

“Just stop!”

“No. That’s not how fire works.” She sat on the step one above where he knelt, his chest heaving with every breath. She leant back, her elbows resting on the step above. “You think I can make an oxygen tank last twice as long by giving up? You think if you’re running up twenty flights of stairs and you get tired you can give in? You think if you get called to a fire in the last hour of a twenty four hour shift you can leave the second your shift is over? You’re a firefighter, Anderson. Fire catches you, you die. Now get on your feet and keep moving.”

“No!”

She sighed. “Fine. But until you’re ready to do this, you’re not going anywhere near the flames. Understand?”

He growled loudly as he got to his feet. He squared up to her, his chest still heaving as he pulled the hose onto his shoulder. “You gonna move?”

She stepped aside and he took another step; one after the other after the other, until he made it to the top. Hughes followed close behind. When he reached the top step and fell to his knees, she slapped him gently on his arm. “Atta boy.”

“You’re a hard ass,” he muttered, breathing short, fast breaths.

“You won’t get better if nobody’s pushing you.” She crouched down in front of him and lifted his chin. She stared into his eyes. “Just be glad you don’t have Montgomery.”

“Why? Is he worse?”

She shrugged, a stupid grin spread across her face. “Where do you think I learnt it from?”

X

“You’re gonna have to ease up on Anderson,” Sullivan said, pacing back and forth across his office.

Hughes sat back and watched him pacing. “Why? Has he told on me to the Principal?”

Sullivan stopped and sat down beside her. His eyes fixed on hers and she couldn’t help but stare back. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but you can’t push him to his limits, Vic. He’s gonna collapse from exhaustion at this rate.”

“I’m just doing what Montgomery taught me,” she said. “He needs to build his stamina.”

“You can do that without him ending up in his bunk at six every night.” He sighed and resumed pacing. “Vic, he’s a decent guy who is trying his best. He needs balance between being pushed to better himself…and friendship.”

Frowning, Vic sighed. “Friendship?”

“You’re not a hard ass. You’re not the type of person to run someone into the ground. I know you’re not doing it because he’s Lucas’s son, but you’re hardly offering him the hand of friendship.”

“We are under no obligation to be friends, Sully.” She chewed on the inside of her mouth. She knew what he was getting at, and she wasn’t sure she was ready. “I’m helping him to be the best firefighter he can be. That is all.”

“It’s not enough.”

Taken aback, her whole face contorted with frustration. “Since when was training someone to be their best not enough?”

“Balance, Vic. You need that balance. Otherwise you’re gonna isolate him.”

“He’s not isolated.”

“Not from everyone else he’s not.”

“What does it matter what my relationship is with him?”

“To be a good mentor you can’t just teach the job, you’ve got to guide him, to be a role model. You’ve got to show him how to be a good team player.” Sullivan sat against the edge of his desk. “Right now all you’re doing is running drills, and that’s great, but you need to support his development as part of the team.”

Hughes leant against the arm of her chair and ran her fingers across her head. “You’re saying I’m bad at this?”

“No.” Sullivan softened his voice. “On the contrary. Your drills are second to none. But when my new recruit is too tired to eat at the end of the day, you’re not going to get a decent firefighter. You’re gonna get a broken one.”

“Okay.” She stood up.

Sullivan stood opposite her. “Okay?”

“I’ll ease up.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” She shrugged. “I’ll be a good role model. Doesn’t mean I need to spend any more time with the guy.”

Smiling, Sullivan placed a hand on Hughes’s shoulder. “I don’t expect you to. Though we are all going out for drinks after shift, if you want to join.”

“Anderson, too?”

“Yes.”

“No. Thanks.”

“Vic.”

“I’m doing my best. That’s just one step too far.”

X

Flames licked the windows, cracking glass and sending oxygen into the burning building. Hughes stood on the side-line, watching the Station 23 crew fight the fire from the outside. For days she’d been itching to get back inside a fire. Now she could see her opportunity, but she’d already been assigned aid car.

“Anderson,” she said, motioning him over from the vehicle. “I want you to watch everything. We’re getting set up. As soon as Station 19 is ready, Station 23 will be pulled out and we’ll step in.”

His face lit up.

“Not you. Not even me. Our team. We’re to be here to support them if someone is injured, or if someone comes out of the fire. Aid car may not be as glamorous in some ways, but it’s vital.”

“It’s been a week since you said I couldn’t go in a fire,” he said, bouncing around with adrenaline. “I’m ready. Put me in.”

“No.” She stared at him. “It doesn’t matter how ready you feel. We’re here to provide medical support, and to get anyone to hospital who needs it. When 23 stand down, we might need to check some of the crew over. They’ve been here the longest.”

Sullivan called them over and they gathered around with the rest of the team. “This is a fierce one, Station 19. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been to a fire this rampant. The whole industrial area is at risk. The fire has already jumped buildings three times, but Station 31 have managed to protect the surrounding buildings for now. Station 7 is here to take over from them and will continue to monitor the situation. We’ll be working under their captain’s orders. Stay close. Stay together. Follow orders and we’ll all get out of here alive and well.”

“Cheery,” Anderson said, heading back to the aid car and staring up at the building, his eyes glistening.

“Reality.” Hughes crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. “A fire this fierce is dangerous. All fire can be dangerous. You need to be able to recognise that every fire is different. Didn’t they teach you that at the academy?”

“Sure.” He stood up tall. “Incoming.”

“Get an oxygen mask,” Hughes said, assessing their casualty before she’d even arrived. “Hi, Station 31? I’m Hughes, Station 19.”

“Bashir. You’re the one who was in love with the chief,” she said, before descending into a coughing fit.

Gritting her teeth, Hughes took the oxygen mask off Anderson and helped her place it over her mouth. She sat her down and did a full workup.

“Anderson,” Hughes said. “Why do we need to check blood pressure?”

X

Four hours into the shift, Hughes was growing antsy. She could still see the flames, could feel the warmth on her skin. She’d treated three firefighters for smoke inhalation. She sat in the back of the aid car, watching the crew fan the flames from the ground. Gibson stood on the ladder, sending water raining down on the roof.

“We should do another sweep. Check that everyone’s okay.” Silence. She turned around. “Anderson?”

She spun around, searching every spare inch of land she could see. Across the forecourt, Sullivan stood side by side with the Station 7 captain, deep in conversation. Anderson wasn’t with the rest of the team. A surge of panic ran through her. She rushed between people, her eyes fixed on any sign of his blonde curls. She ran back to the aid car to double check, then the engine and ladder, but there was no sign of him.

“Captain Sullivan, Sir,” she said into her radio.

Her own radio crackled into life. “Yes, Hughes?”

“I can’t find Anderson.”

“At all?”

“I’ve looked. He’s not at the aid car, the engine; he’s not with the rest of the team. I don’t know where he’s gone.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found myself a little stuck with this one, but thankfully the last chapter and this one is helping. I hope you enjoy it.

“We can’t pull the team off the fire because some rookie has gone missing.”

Sullivan folded his arms across his chest. His temple pulsed. “Some rookie? He’s part of the team, Gerrick. No man or woman left behind. Protocol…”

Gerrick shrugged, cutting him off. “My crew are not going to put their lives at risk because you can’t control your kids.”

“Fine. Then take half of your crew off their current role so my crew can be a team and find him before he gets hurt.”

Teeth bared, Gerrick made a low, loud grunt. He pressed the button on his radio. “Johnson, Beck and Palin, take over for Station 19. The rest of you, stay on task.”

“Thank you,” Sullivan said, gritting his teeth. He lifted his own radio to his mouth. “Bishop and Miller, stand down. Put your packs away. I need you to meet me at the aid car as soon as possible.”

Hughes paced back and forth in front of the aid car, waiting. She hated feeling so useless, and regretted not keeping a closer eye on Anderson. If anything happened to him, well, it was unthinkable.

“He’s gonna be alright,” Sullivan said, resting a hand on her shoulder. She stopped pacing and stood to attention.

Bishop and Miller joined them. “What’s going on, Sir? Why have we been pulled off the fire?”

“Don’t worry about the fire, Miller. Station 7 have it covered. Anderson’s gone walkabout, he’s not got a radio with him, so we’re gonna have to do a sweep.”

“Do we know why?” Bishop asked, frowning.

“No,” Hughes said, still searching the area.

Sullivan stood at his tallest. “Bishop and Miller, I want you to walk around the south side, speak to anyone who may be hanging around. Hughes and I will go to the north. There’s a crowd gathered by the entrance to the lot, hopefully someone will have seen him. Then we’ll make our way around the back of the buildings.”

“Shouldn’t we be going inside?” Bishop asked. “Could he be trying to be the hero?”

“Until we’ve figured out that he’s not outside, I don’t want to risk lives by going in.” Sullivan picked up Hughes’ jacket and handed it over. “I want you all in full gear, masks and tanks at the ready. Station 7 are keeping an eye on the rest of the buildings, but Gerrick is a…we don’t know a full picture about what’s going on round the back. Stay together, stay safe. If you think there’s a risk, don’t do it.”

“Sir,” Bishop and Miller said together. They headed off to the engine to grab their oxygen tanks.

X

“Note to self,” Sullivan said. “Always put a radio on the rookie.”

“It’s not your fault.” Hughes stalked along beside him, keeping pace, despite his far taller stature. “If anyone’s to blame it’s me. I should have paid more attention to him.”

“He’s a trained firefighter, he’s not a dog, or a child. You shouldn’t have to watch him to keep him from wandering off during a dangerous situation.”

“I guess we go round the back,” Hughes said. “If Bishop and Miller haven’t seen him, and nobody else round here has, we’ve got no choice. Though you should stay here, you know you shouldn’t push yourself. You shouldn’t even be out of the station.”

“Leave you alone to find Lucas’s kid? Never. My leg is fine. I’m not fighting fires; I’m just watching everyone else fight them.”

She set the pace, rushing along the side of the building, cautious of any flames travelling between the main building and the smaller ones. She could feel Sullivan beside her, could hear his feet pounding the concrete. They both had a lot riding on Anderson being found.

“What’s that door doing open?” Hughes said, racing towards it.

Sullivan chased after her. “Station 7 should have shut it hours ago.”

Hughes stopped in front of it. Inside the building was dark. Any hope of there being lights diminished the second the building was on fire. A thin layer of smoke billowed out of the door. She glanced around the space above the doorway. It wasn’t affected by flames. She took a step forward.

“No.” Sullivan grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “We don’t know that it’s safe. I can’t be your backup going in there, Vic. If he’s in there, we’ll put a team together, and get him out.”

“Okay.” She hesitated, but didn’t move. She pulled the flashlight off her jacket and shone it into the building. “Anderson?”

No response. She didn’t expect much from her call.

“Anderson!” Sullivan shouted, his voice louder and more forceful.

A flash of movement passed Hughes’ eyes. She shone her light once more, just in time to see Anderson stood in the middle of the room a few feet from the doorway. She stepped forward. A loud creak was followed by a crashing sound. Hughes’ heart raced. Dust and smoke merged together out of the door. A moment later, she could see Anderson on the ground.

“Christopher!” she screamed, running toward him. She knew deep down it was the wrong thing to do, but she couldn’t leave him there. In the doorway, she shone her flashlight down on where he’d disappeared. He sat on the floor, his eyes open, his body unaffected by the beams that cluttered the ground. “Can you get up?”

Before either of them could speak, another crash filled Hughes’ ears. She turned to Sullivan. The sound was amplified. It echoed so close that she knew, in that split second that she was at risk. She glanced up. Her heart hammered in her ears. She could see the beam falling, could hear it move through the air.

“NO!” Anderson screamed, pulling at her arm. She tumbled over pieces of debris, landing on the other side, on top of Anderson. Behind her, an almighty smashing sound filled her with dread.

She pushed up slowly; moving each limb to check it worked, and wasn’t stuck. She turned onto her back and sat up, staring toward the doorway. The doorway she could no longer see. She stood up, her eyes searching the darkness. She wanted to shout, but the dust hadn’t settled.

“Sully?” she said, pressing on her radio button, once the dust had settled. No response. She pressed the button multiple times, but there was no sign of life. Instead she screamed. “Sullivan?”

They could hear distant muffled sounds. She hoped beyond hope that it was Sullivan, and that he was okay. She’d never forgive herself if he was injured again.

“He’ll be okay,” Anderson said.

For the first time since the collapse, Hughes remembered that Anderson was there. She closed her eyes and groaned. Then turned tail and ran towards him, smacking him on the chest. “None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for you! What the hell are you doing here? You are on aid car. Aid car does not involve going into burning buildings. Now we’re trapped and Sullivan is who knows where, probably under a pile of rubble, injured. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Anderson recoiled, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. He tried to speak but no words came out.

Hughes didn’t stop. “Answer me! Answer me you coward!”

He stood a little taller, his face covered in soot and scratches. “I saw someone heading round the back. I just went to see where they were going.”

“That was not your job!”

“I thought it was the right thing.”

“No!” Screaming in his face was not the right way to deal with what had happened, Hughes knew that, and yet she did it anyway. A ball of rage burned inside of her and she couldn’t stop herself. “It’s never the right thing. You pass on anything you see that you think is suspicious and we deal with it as a team. It is not your job to do something without being asked to do it first. Not now. Not when you’re new. It takes months to develop the knowledge you need to deal with the job, and even then you don’t know everything. It takes years to know, to understand, to do things without being asked. Now we’re trapped in a burning building! Do you want to end up like your dad?”

Anderson stumbled backward, dropping to his knees. “I…I didn’t…”

Closing her eyes, Hughes lowered herself down beside him. She stared into his eyes, glistening with tears. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I deserve it.”

“You might do, but I shouldn’t have said it.” The ball of rage shrunk, replaced instead by a maternal need to help. “You’re so young.”

He slipped his butt down onto the ground and sat, cross legged. “Yeah.”

“I mean…” she sighed. “I guess I’ve been seeing you as this adult, a grown man who Lucas never got to know. But deep down you’re still just a kid. You’re learning and you’re new, and I shouldn’t be so hard on you.”

“I like that you push me.” He smiled. “I always wonder what it would have been like to run drills with my dad. I know you’re not him, but running drills with you makes me feel closer to him.”

She ran her hand across her face and chewed on her bottom lip. “I guess it makes me feel closer to him too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have all that much time with him.”

“You had more than me.”

“I did.” She stared into his eyes, showing him her vulnerabilities, as he showed her his. “We both lost him. The only difference is I got to know who he is, and I’ve been fighting that for so long; acting like I didn’t really know him at all, or didn’t know him enough. I didn’t realise that instead of fighting against it, I could share it. I can share what I know. You deserve to know him the way I knew him.”

“Maybe not all of the way…” he said, looking to one side.

She tapped him on the arm. “Hey! I was very nearly your step-mom, so, be nice.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” She smiled. “Are you?”

“Just a few cuts, not really.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be honest, after this, I have no idea what's going to happen next. I'm a bit of a pantser (flying by the seat of my pants), so sometimes I start with what feels like a great idea, and then it tails off and I'm flapping around in the dark wondering what I'm doing because there's no. damn. plan. Anyway, hopefully I can power through...

Dust lingered in the air making it difficult to breathe clearly. Hughes walked around the pile of rubble. She estimated it to be a couple of metres wide by almost the same deep and piled as high as the ceiling, closely packed together. She could no longer see the light from the doorway. Staring up into the roof several holes revealed clouds and sky, partially lighting the room. Smoke billowed across the space far above them. She was thankful that heat rises. That being said, the dust filled her mouth, merging with spittle, creating a thin layer of paste. She pulled off her gloves and wiped at the inside of her cheeks. Eventually, she gave up and sat down. The dust in the air puffed up around her. She wanted to make use of her oxygen tank, but she knew that the fire could still reach them, and if it did, they needed it then more than ever. She coughed and spluttered, trying to catch her breath as dust settled in her lungs.

“You should wear your mask,” Anderson said, sitting down beside her. “It’ll stop the dust.”

“No.” She handed it over. “You should.”

“I’m not struggling.” He pushed it back. “You should wear it for a while, and if you want to switch out later…”

She didn’t want him to be right. She begrudged being trapped there with him beside her. Of all the people she could have been stuck in a pile of rubble with, inside of a burning building, Christopher Anderson was the one person she wished was on the outside.

Even with the mask, Hughes struggled to breathe. Anyone would tell you that she was the one who could stretch her oxygen tank the longest. She didn’t know why she was struggling so much. She leant forward, choking on her own breath.

A hand landed on her back. She jumped and pushed him away. “Don’t.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help!” she shouted. Her throat ached and her chest moved slowly. A sense of panic rose up inside of her and she couldn’t stop wheezing. She secured her mask over her face and turned on the oxygen. Just for a moment. Just to regulate her breathing. She could feel him watching her, his eyes burning a hole in her face. Eventually, her breathing evened out and she turned off her tank. “I shouldn’t even be here. Neither of us should.”

“I know.”

She lowered her gaze and sighed. She fiddled with the buttons on her radio again. “Sullivan? Herrera? Hello? Can anybody hear me?”

“It’s no use,” Anderson said. “If it wasn’t working before it’s not gonna work now.”

“I have to get out.” Hughes stood up. She flashed her light around the empty room. At the far end stood rolling doors; on the other side of that was undoubtedly the fire. She continued her sweep. Her eyes eventually fixed on the space where the door once was. She stepped forward and started pulling, tugging at pieces of wood, in an attempt to shift them. “I can’t stay here any longer.”

“Wait, don’t…”

“I have to. I can’t breathe in here. I don’t want to die in this place, with you.”

She pulled back a large plank of wood, dragging it away from the pile. A loud creaking distracted her for the briefest moment. She glanced up just in time for Anderson to pull her back, and the whole pile shifted, collapsing further.

“I said don’t!” he shouted, a bubble of anger coming out in one quick burst. He turned away from her and let out an almighty groan, banging his fists against his thighs. He spun around again. “I don’t wanna be here as much as you, Hughes. I don’t wanna be trapped. Do you think I’m not scared? You’ve done this before. You know what the hell you’re doing. I don’t have a clue. I’m in so over my head that I don’t even think I should come to work tomorrow, if I even make it out of here.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. Hughes stood up straight, her chest heaving with every breath. She stared at him, her eyebrows raised, her eyes wide. He crumbled to the ground, sobbing loudly. Every piece of anger, and frustration, melted away, replaced by a desperate urge to help him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, kneeling beside him. She ran her hand across his back. His whole body shook with great gasping sobs. She leant down, wrapping her arms around his body and resting her head against his back. “I’m sorry. The first anything can be terrifying. Believe me. I’ve been there…I’ve failed you.”

“No.” He sat down. She sat beside him, crossed legged, slouching forward. “When I learnt about my dad, about what he did, how he died…I thought I could be like him. I was already in the process of becoming a firefighter but suddenly I had this legacy to uphold.”

“Nobody expects you to be the next Lucas Ripley.” She patted his knee like a dad awkwardly comforting his son. “But I did fail you. I’ve been so caught up in pushing you hard that I forgot to start with the basics.”

He fiddled with the laces of his boots, and swiped at his face. “Like what?”

“Like don’t run into a burning building unprepared, even if you think you see someone going in there.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fair point.”

“Seriously,” she said. “I should have explained what it’s like, the first time. No matter what they teach you at the academy, however prepared you feel to deal with everything this job throws at you; nothing prepares you for the first fire. The first real dangerous fire where you don’t have someone watching over you, making sure you get out of there alive. The first moment you realise that it’s all on you.”

“You make it sounds…horrible.”

“I don’t mean to. I don’t want you to be scared of doing your job. But there’s a reality far different from the academy that you haven’t even begun to face yet. I should have been preparing you for that.”

“Maybe let’s leave this conversation for when we get out of here,” Anderson said. He rubbed at his eyes again, smudging the dust and tears across his face. “If you don’t mind, maybe you could not tell anyone that I had a bit of a…you know.”

She smiled. “It’s okay. Nobody needs to know.”

X

“Finland,” Anderson said, leaning against his bend knee.

Hughes lay back against her oxygen tank. “France.”

“Greenland.”

“That’s not a country,” she said.

“Sure it is.”

“No. It’s part of Iceland.”

“So?” He shrugged.

“So, it’s not officially a country.”

He laughed; a long loud chuckle. “We’re surrounded by rubble and dust, it doesn’t matter what’s on some official list somewhere; it’s enough of a country.”

“Fine.” She gritted her teeth. She didn’t much want to admit that she was enjoying his company. It didn’t make it any easier letting him have Greenland. She sighed. “Georgia.”

He frowned. “Where’s that?”

“Between Russia and the middle east.”

“H...hawaii?” he asked, grinning.

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “State.”

“I know.” He leant back, his hands flat on the ground. “I give up.”

“Okay. Haiti.”

He raised an eyebrow, and in that moment Hughes was reminded of Ripley. “If you’re not careful I’m gonna start thinking you’re a geek.”

She closed her eyes briefly, and breathed in slowly, before letting it out again. “I don’t mind. I’m a geek who fights fires. Iceland.”

“Damnit. Ireland?”

She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. “I’m not really a geek.”

“You sure sound like one. You’ll killing this game.”

“I played it with your dad.” She sat up again. “We’d lie in bed and list countries, or Presidents, or types of cheese. It didn’t really matter what theme came up with. I thought at first that I’d find it boring, but the more we did it the more I enjoyed it. It was our thing.”

“And now you’re playing it with me.”

She glanced away. In the beginning she didn’t register just how much that didn’t sit well with her, now Anderson mentioned it, she couldn’t stay silent. “I don’t really know how I feel about that.”

He smiled, his lips curved wide, and his teeth on show. “Thank you for sharing part of him with me.”

The very thought brought tears to her eyes. Hughes cleared her throat and pushed the threat of tears aside. “Jamaica.”

“Jerusalem?”

“City.”

“There are no more J countries.”

“Actually there’s two more: Japan and Jordan.”

“Japan! How could I forget?” He groaned. “Are we even gonna be able to do all letters?”

“Most. But no. Some only have one country.”

“Kenya.”

“Nice job. Kiribati.”

“Where?”

“No idea. Your dad used to go for that one all the time.”

“Li…”

The sound of rubble moving cut Anderson off. They glanced over at the pile. Hughes stood up. The tiniest sliver of light appeared through the wood.

“Hello?” she shouted. A muffled voice spoke, but she couldn’t hear them. “We’re okay! Please. Get us out.”

It took another fifteen minutes, but layer upon layer of rubble disappeared from the space between them and the door until eventually, Sullivan’s stoic face stared back. Hughes’s eyebrows curved downward. Tears pricked her eyes. Without another word, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around Sullivan’s neck.

“Thank you.”

“That’s enough, Hughes,” he said, after a moment, and put some distance between the two. He looked from Hughes to Anderson. “You two okay?”

“Fine,” Hughes said, clearing her throat.

“She’s lying,” Anderson said. “She was coughing for ages. She should get checked out. She’s trying to be brave or whatever, but I don’t want anything bad to happen.”

She wanted to feel angry, but a smile crept up on her mouth. “I’m just being stubborn. Lead the way, Captain.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, my stupidly early starts at work start on Sunday. I don't know how to feel about it. I just hope I can find the time and energy to write because I am loving writing for you all at the moment. Thanks so much for the lovely responses to this and (most of) my other fics. Vicley is clearly the most popular ship to write (I'm very lonely on the good ship Hughop [I vote for this name and since I seem to be only one writing it, I think it can win? Thanks]). Until next time...enjoy this chapter! (Sorry, it's a bit filler-y. I figured out what can happen, but it can't happen too quickly.) [Oh and sorry to Andy/Sully shippers, the good ship Sullyvandy (?) has sunk in this universe.]

A thin layer of sweat covered Hughes’ neck. The cold air bit into her lungs. She pounded the dirt track, her shoes creating more dust as the dry earth took the impact. She stared straight ahead, her chest heaving as the uphill stretch became harder to bear. When she reached the top, she paused, her hands on her hips. She sucked in the oxygen, refilling her tired lungs.

“Race you to the bottom!” Sullivan shouted, speeding past her.

She set off, tumbling forward slightly as she raced to catch up. “No fair!”

“You snooze, you lose,” he said, once she was at his tail.

“We’ll see.” She kept the pace, racing along beside him. The even ground made it easier to moderate her breathing, and Vic could feel her adrenaline pumping. “To the gate?”

“First one there buys breakfast.”

“Thanks!” she said, pushing herself to her very limits. Both feet pounded the earth again, one after the other, her arms building the momentum until he was no longer in her peripheral vision. She ran into the gate, colliding with the cold metal. She turned around, grinning from ear to ear. “You snooze, you lose.”

He rolled his eyes, doubled over with his hands on his hips. His whole body moved as he reclaimed his breath. “Don’t know…how you do…it.”

“It’s all in the breath,” she said. “Breakfast Burritos from Bob’s?”

“Again?” He stood upright, sweat coated his forehead. He lifted the bottom of his shirt and wiped his wet face. “You’re gonna turn into a breakfast burrito.”

She cleared her throat and ran her fingers through the back of her hair. She tried to remove from memory Sullivan’s damp abs and carefully chiselled pecks. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Bob’s is fine.”

X

Hughes ate ravenously, every mouthful made her hungrier than the one before. She finished chewing and swallowed. She glanced up. “I keep forgetting to ask, what’s happening with you and Andy?”

“Nothing.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “How are you doing with Anderson?”

“I asked you first.” Hughes narrowed her eyes. “You two seemed so into each other. The last couple of weeks you’ve barely looked at her.”

He sighed. “Is it really anyone else’s business?”

“It is when I’m the one who made you two try again.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You love me for it,” she said, grinning. “Now spill.”

“Nothing happened.”

She shrugged. “That’s not spilling…”

“It’s the truth.” He cut up the last of his bacon. “We went on a couple of dates, we kissed, we slept together…”

She jumped in. “You had sex?”

“Yeah?” He shrugged. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

She took a sip of juice. “I thought that would be it, once you two did the dirty, you’d be solid.”

“You thought wrong.”

She slouched back in her seat, disappointed. “What happened? Was it bad?”

“No!” His whole face twisted up in frustration. “It wasn’t…what either of us expected.”

“What does that mean?”

He leant forward and stabbed his eggs with a fork. “The amount of spark I thought maybe it would be simple. When we slept together we didn’t click.”

“Does anyone click perfectly the first time?”

“We did it six times.”

She coughed, choking on a piece of bacon. She cleared her throat, took a sip of her juice, and frowned at him. “That’s…specific.”

“We tried.” He scooped up the rest of his egg and a slice of bacon and held his fork in front of his mouth. “Not all chemistry turns into a fire.”

“Anyone else on the cards?”

“No.” He swallowed, using the moment as excuse to glance anywhere but at Hughes. He tossed his napkin onto his plate and cleared his throat. “Enough about me. How is everything with Anderson?”

“You tell me, you’re the one who goes golfing with him.”

“We went to the driving range, once. We’ve hardly been cruising around the golf course on a buggy. Besides, he doesn’t talk much. He’s a pretty silent kind of guy.”

“I noticed.” She scraped the scraps from her breakfast burrito onto Sullivan’s plate and piled it on to her own. “We’ve been getting along better since the disaster at the industrial fire. He listens to me more and I’m…more receptive to his needs.”

“He doesn’t think you’re as much of a hard ass anymore.”

“That’s encouraging.” She paused briefly, contemplating everything that ran through her mind on a daily basis. “Still pretty weird that he’s here at all.”

“It’ll get easier, look how far you’ve already come.”

X

“You been holding out on me, Herrera?” Hughes asked, climbing up into the passenger seat of the engine.

Herrera dropped her rag into a bucket. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you and Sully.”

She frowned. “What…what about me and Sully?”

“Yeah, what about you and Sully?” Bishop asked, approaching the two of them, her eyes wide.

“Nothing, nothing about me and Sully,” Herrera said, glaring at Hughes.

She shrugged. “That’s not what I heard.”

“That’s not fair!” Herrera grabbed a second rag, balled it up and tossed it at Hughes. “You can’t get information from Captain Sullivan and then use it against me.”

“Really?” she startled, grabbed the balled up rag and tossed it back. “Cause I think I just did. Come on, tell us what happened.”

“Yeah, Andy,” Bishop said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “What happened?”

“Like you don’t know!” Hughes said, staring at her.

“I don’t. Looks like you’re not the only one Herrera’s been holding out on.”

Herrara picked up the discarded rags and returned them to the bucket. She picked them up and carried them over to the door on the side of the engine. After opening it, her voice carried. “We had sex…and it was…fine.”

“Fine?” Bishop’s eyes bugged, her whole face scrunched up. “Ooh.”

“That’s tough,” Hughes said.

Herrera slammed the door shut and glared at them both. “He was very sensual and I was…I…enjoyed it.”

“But?” Hughes asked.

She shrugged. “There’s no but.”

“But…” Bishop continued.

“But we didn’t connect.” Herrera turned away and busied herself with the box of tools on the floor. “After half a dozen times the spark sort of…fizzled out.”

Bishop closed the lid on the tool box and stored it away. “Fizzled out? Like a firework dipped in water?”

Herrera shook her head. “Or maybe a well-lit car covered in foam?”

“Hot to not in zero point two three seconds.” Hughes bared her teeth. “Sorry, Andy.”

“These things happen, you know?” She picked up her turnout gear and returned it to the floor beside the engine. “We tried, we wanted it to work, and it didn’t. I value his friendship more and I think he feels the same.”

Bishop closed the door on the cupboard with the tool box. “He’s a guy, he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Oh, he definitely feels the same,” Hughes said.

“See?!” Herrera glared at Bishop.

The second Hughes saw Sullivan heading their way, she jumped out of the engine and found something to pick up and move. A moment later, Herrera and Bishop went silent.

“Alright ladies, you can stop talking about me,” he said, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes.

“You’re joking,” Hughes said. “But that’s exactly what we were doing.”

“Do I even want to know?” he asked, tilting his head.

Herrera forged a smile. “Probably not.”

“Line-up in fifteen.”

X

The corner of the bar was the quietest place for Hughes and Anderson to have a little informal one-to-one conversation. Since the industrial fire, she’d taken it upon herself to be more vigilant and cautious with his mentorship. If he didn’t know something, or he did something wrong, it reflected badly on her, and she needed to put her own person issues aside.

She scanned a list of questions she’d prepared. “Where are the oxygen tanks?”

He stared into space, his eyebrows moving continually. He lifted up a finger. “In the third engine and ladder doors top and bottom. Red caps at the top blue at the bottom.”

“What’s the difference between red and blue caps?”

“Red is thirty minutes, blue is sixty.”

“Where are stationery and bathroom supplies?” Hughes took a sip on her glass of beer.

He clenched his jaw. “The store cupboard at the far end of the corridor farthest from the beanery.”

“Whose turn is it to cook on Thursday nights?” she asked, smirking. She’d purposefully put in minor questions in the hope of challenging him. When he answered, Hughes stared at him, her mouth open.

“Yours, if you’re in the mood, otherwise you switch with Bishop but she loves cooking so much she often does it twice.”

A crease formed between her eyebrows. “That’s not on the roster.”

He held his hands out in front of him. “Not everything is written down.”

“What do I do for Bishop if she cooks for me?” she asked, going off piste.

“You do her laundry.”

“How long has Gibson been spending twenty minutes boxing in the morning?”

“I can’t be too sure but he’s been doing it since I arrived.”

“What’s going on between Sullivan and Herrera?”

“From what I’ve seen they had a romantic connection that has since ended.”

Hughes sat upright, her mouth still part-way opened. She shook her head and stared at him. She couldn’t find the words to share her exclamation, so she pushed on with another random question that suddenly came to her. “How long does it take Travis to put on his uniform?”

Anderson stared at the table, his eyes darting back and forth. After a moment, Hughes was ready to step in, but eventually, he answered. “It took him forty-nine minutes yesterday, though forty is his ultimate record. Bishop leads behind his time yesterday by two seconds, you’re next with fifty-five. Herrera and Sullivan are tied at fifty-eight seconds, Miller is on fifty-nine, and Gibson, though he brags the most, is actually the slowest at one minute and two seconds. Though on a good day he can get down to fifty-eight.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“I pay attention.”

She sat back and picked up her drink. “How fast are you?”

“I’ve been practicing whenever I get the chance, but my current record is one minute twenty four seconds.”

“Wow, that’s faster than…”

“You were when you were training,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Travis told me.” He finished the last mouthful of his beer. “He used to keep a record when he was averaging at one minute. It spurred him on to beat everyone.”

“Okay.” She smirked. “Another question…what did Miller eat for breakfast three days ago?”

He frowned. “How am I supposed to know?”

Hughes leant against the table laughing. “You can tell me his quickest time getting on his turnout gear, but you can’t tell me what food he eats every single day for breakfast?”

“What can I say? Food doesn’t interest me.”

“Are you sure you don’t know the countries of the world like Lucas did?”

“You want another?” Anderson asked, picking up his empty glass.

She smiled. As much as she was enjoying his company, she didn’t want to push the boundaries of their current relationship. She was his mentor, and he was a rookie. She was still heartbroken over the loss of the love of her life, and he was a constant reminder of that.

“No.” She stood up and slipped her arms into her jacket. “Thanks, but I should head out.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a way to the end of this story - already got the next chapter written, which is good. I have a LONG day at a local TEDx event tomorrow, which should be interesting. Hey, if it's not, maybe I'll leave early and go write somewhere. I think I have a very basic idea to write for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) this year, which eventually will (hopefully) mean a better planned and thus better quality story. I really want to sink my teeth into something significant for this fandom. I just hope I can make this basic idea enough to reach to 50,000 words!

Dozens of children ran around the engine, screaming and laughing as Miller and Gibson occasionally sprayed them with a garden hose. Hughes startled when a small boy jumped against her legs.

She untangled his hands from her knees and pushed him across the concrete. “No. You go back to your Momma.”

“I am so sorry!” A woman shouted, rushing over to retrieve her child.

Hughes folded her arms across her chest. The last thing she was in the mood for was the Station 19 Open Day. Anderson chased a couple of little girls with a balloon animal, while another tried to fight him off with a balloon sword. Two boys with tiger face paint roared at Herrera. The look on their faces should have been enough to make her smile.

“Kill me now,” Hughes said, rolling her eyes.

“Wanna smile?” Sullivan asked, standing beside her.

She shrugged. “Wanna free me from this hell?”

“I thought you liked kids.” He crouched down and waved as a toddler stumbled towards him. “Hey there little guy.”

“Thank you,” his dad said, scooping him up and carrying him back across to the engine where Bishop was lifting children in out and of the cab.

“I don’t mind them on their own,” she said, scowling. “There’s like forty kids here.”

Sullivan narrowed his eyes. “Thinking about Lucas, aren’t you?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“His birthday was always gonna be difficult.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip and swiped at her eye. “Not now, Sully.”

“You wanna grab a drink later? Toast the big man?”

Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she shook her head. “Not really in the mood for company.”

“Alright,” he said, turning around. He pointed at her as he backed away. “I’m gonna go turn on the sirens, if you change your mind, we’re all gonna be in the usual place from seven.”

She stood on the sidelines a while longer, watching everyone with smiles on their faces having a great time. The mood was infectious, but instead of spreading love and happiness to Hughes, it only spread more misery.

“We need some more stickers,” Anderson said, rushing over.

She shrugged. “And?”

“Captain Sullivan said you’d get some.”

She opened her eyes wide and stared at him. “Do I look like your slave?”

“He said…”

“Go get ‘em yourself,” she said, turning tail and walking back inside.

His shoes tapped against the floor as he followed her into the station. “You okay?”

“Do I look okay to you?” she asked, spinning round and swiping at a couple of fresh tears.

“No.” He leant forward and reach out a hand. She pushed it away. “I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help, Anderson. I don’t want your help. Just leave me the hell alone.” Gritting her teeth, she sent dagger eyes at him as she ran off up the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” he shouted after her, but she didn’t want to look at him again, let alone continue their conversation.

X

On the way home from the station, Hughes picked up a bottle of wine and takeout. She settled down on the couch with a glass of white, her pizza and an unopened box from Ripley’s. Before she could open it, the doorbell went.

“Did he send you?” Hughes asked, walking away the second she saw Montgomery stood on the other side of the door.

“He was worried,” he said, closing the door and following her into the apartment. “I’m worried. You’ve been in a foul mood all day.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when your fiancé dies.” She curled back up on the couch and took a large mouthful of her drink. “If you want any, you’ll have to get your own glass.”

He disappeared into the kitchen briefly before returning with a mug, which he filled with wine. He took a slice of pizza and perched on the couch beside her. “On the first of Michael’s birthdays after he died, I didn’t even make it into work.”

“Is it a competition?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Of course not,” he replied, his tone soft and empathic. She sighed. She hated how hard she was pushing everyone away today. “I’m here, Vic, to do whatever you want. Whether you want to talk, or just drink.”

“I wanna open and look through this box without crying,” she said, pulling at the lid. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “But how can I do that when just thinking about reliving my memories makes me want to cry?”

He tugged open the lid of the box and pulled out a pile of papers. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he curled up beside her. “Let’s see what we have here.”

She nuzzled her face against his shoulder and settled into his arms. “That’s the only birthday card he ever gave me.”

For the next hour, they looked through old letters and cards that Ripley received over the last few years, some items Vic knew, and others were a piece of Ripley’s past she got to experience for the first time.

“You want me to go and get us some more wine?” Montgomery asked, holding up the empty bottle.

“Sure.”

When the front door closed and she was alone again, she reached into the box and grabbed another pile of letters. A couple of old bank statements were mixed in with Christmas cards and confirmation of his appointment as Fire Chief.

“You weirdo,” she whispered, putting the receipt from their first trip to the diner into a pile with other random things he’d saved. A handwritten letter was next. A crease formed between her eyebrows as she started reading.

_10/10/1997  
Dear Lucas,_

_I hate that the last time we saw each other ended so badly. If only for the baby. Of course you can be involved, as little or as much as you want._

_But I can’t stay in Seattle. Not right now. I need some time away from the city, and from you. I wish our marriage hadn’t ended the way it did, and I’m sorry we never got to talk about it more. I’m done arguing over your career. I know how much you want to be a firefighter and I can’t stop you, but I can’t be the person sitting at home wondering if you’re gonna come home safely each night. I don’t have the energy right now._

_My parents will let you know when the baby is born, and maybe you can come visit us. I’m gonna take that offer at the university for next year. You know how much I wanted an education. I just wish our marriage hadn’t taken me away from it for so long._

_Maybe the next time we see each other I’ll be the lawyer I’ve always wanted, and you’ll be running a fire station._

_I wish you well, and hope you stay safe in your new career._

_All my love,_

_Darcy_

The letter slipped from her hand and floated to the floor. Vic’s hand voluntarily moved to her mouth. _He knew._ After everything she thought about what Ripley knew about his son, he knew he had a child out there, somewhere. She stood up, fresh tears coursing down her cheeks. She brushed them away, grabbed her jacket and headed out of the house.

The streets were quiet. She strode along the sidewalk, focusing her attention on putting one foot in front of the other until she found herself stood at the apartment door, her cheeks red and blotchy.

“Vic?” Anderson asked, frowning as he opened the door. “What’s wrong?”

“He knew.”

“Who knew what?” he asked, stepping aside and letting her into his apartment. “What are you talking about?”

“Your dad knew you existed.”

“No, he didn’t,” he said. “He can’t have. My mom said…”

“Your mom lied.” She stared into his eyes. So blue, so familiar. Her heart ached for the man she missed every moment of every day, and today everything felt so much harder. Her voice broke as she spoke. “He knew. Your mom wrote him a letter before you were born, and he kept it all these years.”

“_No._” He shook his head, his eyes fixed on Vic’s. “It can’t be true.”

“It is.” For the briefest moment, she got lost in his eyes. She couldn’t breathe. He’d kept something so huge from her and she didn’t know what to do with it. Anderson’s eyes curved downwards; his sadness evident in his face. She could see her own pain emulated in his face. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and lowered his face into his hand. “I can’t believe it.”

She reached out and brushed his sandy brown curls from his forehead. Every memory she had of touching Ripley’s curls filled her with elation and pain. She could see him staring back at her, his beautiful eyes framed by his curls. She cupped his cheek. The soft skin under her fingers, broken up with tiny strands of facial hair.

“Vic,” he whispered, his voice so familiar that her heartbeat so hard against her chest.

She leant forward, brushing her lips briefly against his. She could feel his mouth respond, momentarily, before they both jumped back. His lips weren’t the same. She covered her mouth, her eyes darted back and forth.

“I shouldn’t have,” she said, shaking her head. She rested a hand on his chest, holding him away. Her own moved rapidly up and down with every difficult breath. “This can’t happen.”

“I agree.”

Nodding her head, she ignored his protests at her departure and fled the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments and kudos, etc. is welcome. You guys really help to motivate me to write more. Thanks for reading, I really appreciate your feedback and just the fact you're still here enjoying the story.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if anyone can help me. I'm working on a story idea for a long fic, which I will be working hard on - properly planned out and edited. But I need to run a couple of things by someone first. I don't know anyone in this fandom, so I don't have anyone to throw ideas around with. If anyone's willing to help me out, let me know.
> 
> Here's the next chapter. I hope you think it's okay and not too much after the last one.

A feeling of dread coursed through Hughes body. She felt sick. The last hour had left her with so many conflicting feelings she could barely breathe. The street was deserted. Her stomach twisted and turned, demanding her attention with every step she took forward. Anger bubbled up inside. Anger towards Ripley tor lying to her about his child. Anger for Anderson who clearly didn’t know that his dad had known he was due to be born. Anger at herself for kissing him. He was barely an adult, and though he was only about twelve years younger than her, she felt revolted by her actions. Regardless of age, he was Ripley’s son. She very nearly became his stepmom and though they’d never married, effectively she still was.

“You came!” Sullivan said loudly, a huge smile spread across his face as she walked into the bar. She could feel her resolve crumbling, but the entire crew of Station 19 was staring at her and she couldn’t fall apart in such a public location.

“I, I need...” she began, glancing back towards the door.

Sullivan stood up and grabbed her elbow. “Come with me.”

She followed him outside, not stopping until they were far enough from the bar that nobody could hear them. She opened her mouth to speak but words wouldn’t come, only fresh tears that skirted down her face.

“Hey, hey,” he said, enveloping her in his arms. He held her so close she could feel his heart beating in his chest. They stood in silence for a while, as her tears slowed and her body’s need to fight slowed down. She burrowed her face against his chest. “You wanna talk?”

“He lied.” She stepped back and stared into his eyes. “Lucas. He didn’t tell me about Christopher.”

“He didn’t know.”

“He did.” She wiped her cheeks clean of tears. “She wrote him a letter. Christopher’s mother wrote him a letter before he was born. He knew. He knew he was gonna be a father and he did nothing.”

“We don’t know...”

“Yes. We do.” She breathed in slowly, running her hand through her hair. “He knew and he wasn’t there for him. How could he do that? His own child, for all these years.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I’ve known Lucas for a long time and, and I don’t know the answer to what you’re asking. None of us do.”

“That’s not good enough.” A couple of tears strolled across her cheek and she brushed them away. “He’s not here to answer for this. He’s not here. I miss him so much and I don’t know how to feel that he did this.”

“I know.” Sullivan stepped forward again, pulling his arms around her once more. She settled into his embrace. “We deserved more time with him, and that’s something I will never be happy with.”

He stepped back and cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears away. She sighed. “Why are you so good to me? All I ever do is get annoyed and talk too much.”

“I don’t mind.” He crouched down to her height and kissed her softly on the cheek. “If any good has come from Lucas dying, it’s that we became more than colleagues.”

She stared into his eyes. The feel of his lips on her cheek lingered. Everything he said was exactly how she felt. He was the light in everything, and she had never really acknowledged it before. His eyes were dark, so different to Ripley’s, or his son’s.

She rested her hand on his cheek. The closer they got, the closer she felt. Emotions danced around inside her, tumbled up, confused and a mess. She didn’t know what she was feeling, all she knew was he mattered more to her than he ever had before.

“Thank you.” She stroked her hand along his cheek and pressed her lips against his. They stared into each other’s eyes again, and she didn’t regret for a second leaning back in. His lips moved with hers.

He pushed her away, his eyes danced back and forth. “I don’t...”

“I’m sorry.” Her cheeks felt hot. She averted her gaze. “I shouldn’t have...”

“No.” He cupped her cheeks again and forced her to look back into his eyes. “Vic. I want this.”

“Oh.” She stepped back, her heart thumping. She hadn’t thought through her actions and now she was faced with feelings she’d sunk down, suddenly reciprocated. If they were even real. Her head was a mess. She didn’t know what to do.

“But I can’t do this right now. Not when you’re like this. You’re upset, and angry, and I can’t take advantage of that. I won’t. You deserve better.”

“But...”

“Our ranks are too far apart. This is complicated, and I don’t want to bring that into your life again. Not when things are getting better for you after Lucas died. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow with any regrets. I won’t hurt you.”

Gritting her teeth, she glared at him. “You won’t hurt me? What do you think you’re doing now? I don’t need some knight in shining armour stopping me from making a mistake. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

He sighed. “I wasn’t trying to.”

“No? It sure looks like it from here.”

He stepped back, putting more distance between them. “Vic, I care about you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“This is why I don’t want to go there right now.”

“Why? Because I’m being irrational? Because I’m hysterical?” She scoffed. “Just some poor defenseless woman who needs help knowing what to do. Poor Vic.”

“Don’t throw feminist crap at me,” he said, his voice growing louder and more assertive. “You can do anything. You’re not being hysterical. You’re grieving for someone you loved, someone who you were robbed the chance of spending the rest of your life with.”

“Don’t pretend you know what the hell I’m going through.”

“Who’s pretending?” He shook his head. “I lost my wife. If anyone is insulting anyone right now, it’s you. I’m not having this discussion, Victoria. Not when you’re like this. I refuse to push you away. I don’t care if that’s what you want. I won’t play your game.”

“It’s not a game.”

“No?” He threw his arms at his sides and backed up. “Go home, Vic, before your say or do something else you’ll regret tomorrow.”

Her cellphone buzzed in her pocket. Vic pulled it out. She didn’t want to talk to Montgomery right now. She knew he’d be at her apartment, wondering why she wasn’t answering her door, and she just didn’t have the energy to have that conversation.

She set off walking down the street again. Her heart ached harder than it had a couple of hours ago. She’d kissed two men on Ripley’s birthday and the very thought left her feeling worse. How could she do something so terrible as to betray his memory? But the more she thought about Sullivan, the more she didn’t regret kissing him.

“I’ll get a coffee,” she said, sliding into her booth at the diner. The lady serving her filled her a mug and left her a small pot of milk. She disappeared into the back, leaving Vic alone with her thoughts and the ghost of the man she loved.

“Hey there, Vic!”

She looked up; fresh tears strolled down her cheeks. “Hi, Cam.”

“I’ve not seen you recently.”

“You know how it is,” she said, shrugging.

He slid into the booth opposite her and smiled. “Special occasion?”

“His birthday.” She looked up at him again, at his kind eyes staring back at her with no hopes or expectations, just empathy. “Today’s his birthday.”

He shouted across the nearly empty diner at his colleague and a minute later she came out with a cupcake with a candle in it. Vic started to laugh as fresh tears strolled down her face.

“Shall we sing?” he asked, lighting the candle.

“No.” She wiped at her cheeks. “Let’s just make a wish.”

“What would Lucas wish for?”

She sighed and stared at the yellow frosting on the cupcake. “I think he’d wish for me to find a way to move forward, to learn how to live without him.”

“After three?”

Vic closed her eyes as he counted to three and they blew out the candle.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I'm still not really sure what I'm doing with this story. This is why being a pantser isn't a good idea and planning stories properly is beneficial. I'm going to work so much harder on my next story, and it's going to be proper Vicley all married and in love and exploring their future together and then I'm going to tear that all apart, because I love angst. But then it's going to be all wonderful and amazing because flangst (fluff + angst) makes my heart happy. The problem is because of that I am just wanting to write that but I can't start it until 1st November and I just want this one done and it's not working.

“Do you ever look at your life and wonder ‘how did I get here’?”

“No.”

Hughes sighed, encircling her hands around her mug of coffee. “You’re lucky.”

Cam smiled. “I know I am. I may not be in a relationship, or have a fancy job, but I love working here and I’m happy being single.”

The diner was nearly empty. Hughes stared out of the window, contemplating everything going through her mind. She’d called in sick to work and spent the day hiding out in the diner. After the lunch rush, Cam joined her, and she couldn’t help but be grateful for his presence in her life.

“I kissed someone last night, well, two people actually.”

Cam stared at her, and though ordinarily Hughes might have felt like she was being stared at, there was something about the way Cam was that made her feel…comfortable.

“You’re gonna judge me when I tell you why,” she said, laughing nervously. The story wasn’t long, but by the time she got it all out, it stretched far longer than Hughes had anticipated. “I can’t believe I just told you all that.”

He reached out and covered her hand. “Vic, what you went through losing Lucas, I can’t even begin to imagine that loss. But he’s gone, and he’s not coming back, so you deserve to be happy.”

“It’s not that.” She picked at a patch of dry skin on her palm. “It’s only been a few months. If we were talking another twelve months down the line, maybe things would be different.”

“Are we talking about Christopher or Robert?”

“Robert. Definitely Robert.” Hughes groaned. “But Christopher…”

Cam’s eyebrows tugged together as leant forward. “Do you have feelings for him too?”

“No!” She shook her head. “Definitely not. He’s a kid. He’s…he was nearly my kid, kind of. I can’t believe I kissed him.”

“I bet that’s pretty tough working with him, knowing who he is.”

“Yeah.” She returned to picking at her palm. “Yeah, it is.”

X

The station was silent when Hughes walked in. The engine and aid car were out, which meant most of the crew were with them. Hughes hovered in reception, contemplating her next move, when the door to Sullivan’s office opened and she jumped.

“Victoria.”

She rested a hand on her chest, breathing heavily. “Rob…Su…Captain Sullivan, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” He walked forward, his hand automatically going to her elbow. “Please, can we talk?”

She flinched, stepping away from the feel of his fingers on her skin. “No, I…I need to see Anderson, is he here?”

“Oh.” Sullivan’s shoulders dropped and he retreated slightly. “He’s…out. Please, Vic.”

“I…”

The barn doors opened, and the engine returned. Hughes rushed into the barn, not saying another word as Sullivan followed.

“Anderson,” Hughes said, approaching him the second he climbed out of the vehicle.

“Hey, are you feeling better?” he asked, tilting his head. “You’ll never guess what I did today?”

“It’ll have to wait,” she said, motioning towards the doorway. “Can we please go outside? I need to speak with you.”

He looked behind her. Hughes turned as Sullivan nodded his head. “Okay.”

X

They walked into the car park. Hughes perched on the wall, her resolve crumbling with every second of silence that passed.

“I need you to answer a question,” she said. “If you can’t, then I need you to find out for me.”

“Okay.” He sat beside her. “What’s the question?”

“Did Lucas know about you? Did he know that you were born? That you were called Christopher? Did he lie to me? Did he pretend he didn’t have any children when he knew exactly who you were and what you looked like?”

“Okay,” Anderson said, laughing. He ran his hands up and down his slacks. “That’s like six questions. I tried to ring my mom last night, but she didn’t answer. She usually goes to a bridge group, so I guess she was out.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “God, I wish she’d answered. I need to know. This can’t be an answered question that we don’t know what happened. I don’t want to believe that Lucas lied to me. I don’t want to remember him that way, not now, not tomorrow, not in five years’ time.”

He smiled and reached out, cupping her hand in his. She let him hold her fingers, if only to stop herself from losing her resolve. She stared at his fingers, at the tiny sandy hairs barely visible on his skin.

“I wish I knew too.”

“I’m sorry about last night,” Hughes said, letting go of his hand. She cradled her own against her chest. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even really want to.”

“Err, thanks?”

She let out a long, low groan. “I didn’t mean it like that. I…I miss your dad and all I could think about was that he’d lied to me. I wanted to see him, to talk to him, and when I saw you…you don’t always look like him, but in that moment all I could see was the resemblance. It drives me crazy. I look into your eyes and it’s like he’s here. You speak, the way you said my name, it’s so alike how he said it.”

“Vic,” he said, rubbing his face. “I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t need to say anything.” She patted him gently on the wrist. “I know you’re not him. You’re so different in so many ways. I know you’re not Lucas. I know you don’t really look like him, and the fact you sound like him is just some wild coincidence. Last night I was upset, and my brain got confused.”

“Your brain, or your heart?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Both maybe. You deserve better than me trying to kiss you.”

He snaked his hand carefully around her shoulder and she leant against him, her body moving with every breath he took. A comfortable silence fell between them.

“I wish everything was so different. I wish you’d been able to meet your dad.”

“Me too.”

“I wish…I wish…I don’t even know what I wish.” She sat up straight, Anderson’s hand dropped away. She stood up and hovered in front of him, her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “I wish I could get to know you without feeling like this is all some kind of mistake. I wish I could speak to your dad again, to ask him…so many different questions. I wish I could understand everything that I’m feeling because right now I don’t and that scares me.”

Anderson stood beside her. “I know I’m just “a kid” or whatever it was you keep calling me, and I’m a reminder of the man you nearly married, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for me since I got here. If I can help in any way…”

“No,” she said. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It wouldn’t be fair to put any of this on you, not more than I already have.”

“Okay. But if you change your mind.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

X

“Anderson,” Sullivan said the second they arrived back into the barn. “I need you to find Herrera, she needs your help.”

“Yes, Sir,” Anderson said, nodding his head briefly in Hughes’ direction and heading up the stairs.

“You’re trying to make me talk, aren’t you?” Hughes asked, staring at him.

He shrugged and lifted both hands at his sides. “Got me.”

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sully, I…”

“I just want you to know that there’s no pressure.” He folded his arms as his temple pulsed slowly. “We both lost Lucas. It’s barely been half a year. I don’t expect you to jump into bed with me when we’re both still grieving.”

“Jump into what?”

Goose bumps travelled across Hughes’ skin. Her heart raced. She turned to the source of the voice. Herrera. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Andy,” Sullivan said, scratching his chin. “We shouldn’t have been discussing this out in the open.”

“No. Maybe not.” Herrera sighed and folded her arms. “You two…”

“No. There is no us two. Nothing’s happened. I mean, one kiss, but nothing has, or is, going to happen. I’m not ready.” She looked to Sullivan, fixing her gaze, holding his own. “I’m not ready to be in a relationship with anyone right now.”

“But if you were ready…?” Herrera asked, her eyes creased.

Hughes sighed again and headed for the door. “I’m not, so it doesn’t matter. End of story.”

“Vic, please,” Sullivan said.

“Vic, please?” Herrera’s voice carried in Hughes’ wake. “Were you ever gonna tell me about the two of you?”

Sullivan cleared his throat. “There is nothing to tell, Andy. We shared one kiss. We both agreed now isn’t the time. I don’t think this is really any of your business.”

The door closed behind Hughes. She headed for her car in silence. A multitude of feelings continued to fight for her attention, bubbling up inside. All she knew was that she wanted to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading, commenting, kudosing, etc.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to go for a walk today (to pick up my mum's car) so I found the time to write. It was a lovely day for a writing walk. Though I'm not sure you'll agree once you read what I wrote...or maybe you'll be okay with it, who knows. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment, leave kudos, etc.

When Hughes woke up on her couch a couple of hours later, her back ached from sleeping in an odd position. She stretched, pushing her hands up and over her head until she felt her back elongate and her muscles loosen.

“It’s about time you were awake.”

A mug of coffee landed on the table beside her. She looked up to find Montgomery staring at her, his eyebrows tugged together. Hughes sat up and nursed her coffee, taking a sip every now and then.

Montgomery sat in the chair beside the couch. “Sullivan’s worried about you.”

She sat up taller. “Wha, what did he tell you?”

“Just that he was worried.” He learnt forward and rested his hand on her knee. “Vic, I don’t know what happened the other night, but something’s going on and you’re not talking to me.”

She returned her drink to the table and scratched her nose. “Everything’s fine.”

“If fine means calling in sick then turning up at the station to have a slanging match with Herrera, then I’ll believe you.”

She slouched back in her seat. “Sullivan caused that. What did Andy say? Is she angry? Cause it’s not my fault that Sullivan is interested in me and not her. I didn’t ask him to be. I did kiss him. It doesn’t mean I’m ready to be in a relationship with anyone. Least of all our boss.”

Montgomery’s eyes grew wider with every word. He stayed silent; his mouth slightly parted.

“I...” Hughes sighed. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“No.” He stood up and moved into the space beside her, wrapping his arms around her until she succumbed to his comforting embrace. “You kissed Sullivan, that’s huge.”

“Is it?” She burrowed her face against his neck. “I guess it is. But I’m not...”

“Ready. I heard you. I’ve been you.”

“How did you move on?”

“I didn’t. For a long time, I didn’t really move on. I had sex.” He smirked. “Plenty of sex, but I didn’t start anything significant until Grant.”

“That was like two years.”

“Yeah. It was.”

She sighed. “I dunno if I want to wait two years until I can be happy again.”

He gave her a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to. Grief isn’t the same for everyone. Moving in doesn’t have to be about betraying Ripley. He’ll always be there, in some way, in your heart. Even if part of your heart eventually belongs to someone new.”

“And if it was Sullivan?”

“Given how long it took Sullivan to move on after his wife died, I’d say Ripley would be over the moon that his two favourite people have found each other.”

She closed her eyes and pictured Ripley’s face. “I dunno. I still think it’s too soon.”

“That’s okay.”

Montgomery sat up and grabbed the box which originally contained the letter. “Do you want me to put this somewhere?”

“No. It’s okay.” She opened the top flap and pulled out a new pile of papers. “I haven’t finished going through it.”

“You never did explain what happened the other night, aside from kissing Sullivan.”

She laid the papers on her lap and placed old official letters in a pile on the table. She sighed and searched the original pile which she’d left on the table and took out the letter from Ripley’s first wife. “I found this.”

Excess feelings from the letter battled her mind for attention. She busied herself with the new pile while Montgomery read.

“Wow,” he said, placing the letter back on the table. “He knew about Anderson?”

“I...I don’t really know. I don’t know who would know, other than his mother, and I really don’t want to speak to her. All I know is she sent him this letter and I went over there and kissed him.”

“Why would this make you kiss Sullivan?”

Her cheeks felt warm. “Not Sullivan.”

It took a moment for Montgomery to react. “Anderson?!”

She shrugged. “It was a mistake. More a mistake than Sully. I was upset and angry and I just wanted Lucas in that moment. Unfortunately, his son, who has those same eyes, was looking at me and it was like I couldn’t help it.”

He let out the briefest chuckle and patted her knee. “You know when Michael died, I did something similar. Except it wasn’t his son I kissed; it was a man in the bar who looked nothing like him. I just wanted him to. I needed him to be Michael.”

“That makes me feel a little better.”

X

Hughes marched up to Sullivan’s apartment door with determination. She couldn’t put it off any longer. He deserved her words and not her silence. The whole mess was complicated, and she didn’t quite know what it all meant, but she did know that a relationship was the last thing she wanted.

“Vic, what are you...?”

“Can I come in?” The more time that passed, the harder the words were to form in her brain. He stepped aside and she marched along the hallway to the living space she’d been in only a handful of times.

“Can I get you a drink?”

She shook her head. “I came to talk and that’s it.”

“Okay.” He folded his arms, then lowered them to his side. He stood up tall, then slouched forward. She watched him for a moment, dancing about with the same level of awkward that she felt.

“Firstly, I wanted to show you these,” she said, handing him two letters.

He scanned the first handwritten note, then the second, finishing off by looking at the photograph attached. “He knew he had a son, and that’s why you were so messed up the other night.”

“I only read the first letter before we kissed, but it was enough. He knew.” She swallowed the lump threatening to settle in her throat. “But as you can see, Darcy told him that he wasn’t going to be part of Christopher’s life. I don’t know why he didn’t fight her over it. I don’t know why he didn’t tell me. But I guess we didn’t share a lot of things.”

He handed her the letters back. “There wasn’t time.”

“No.” She sighed and folded the letter back up, storing it in the pocket of her jacket. “I never told him about my family, or what I did before I came to Seattle. I don’t think he really knew me as well as I thought I knew him.”

“Does that mean you’re not angry that he lied?” he asked.

“Not as angry as I was before,” she said. She slipped off her jacket and slung it over her arm. “We didn’t have time to talk about everything, and I can’t be mad at him for not sharing something that wasn’t a big part of his life.”

Sullivan ran his hand across her shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, I worked with him for years and never knew half of the things he probably shared with you. I know it’s different, but he wasn’t exactly an open book. Like you.”

She ran her hands through her hair and sighed again. “What I feel I can’t feel.”

“For me?” She nodded. “What do you feel?”

“I don’t really know. What I do know is that you’re an amazing person and getting to know you is one of the best things I’ve done. You’re not the man I first met when you joined Station 19. You’re kind, you’re funny, and under any other circumstance it’d be ridiculous to say no to this...whatever this is.”

His lips curved and he folded his arms again. His smile lit up his whole face and Hughes couldn’t help but smile back.

“I don’t know what it is either,” he said.

“Good.” She stepped forward. “Do you think in a few years it might would be the right time for us?”

He leant closer; his eyes fixed on Hughes’. “If I’m not seeing someone else then I’m ready when you are. Whether that’s next month, next year, or in a few years’ time. Like I said, I don’t wanna pressure you. You’re too special for that.”

She sighed; her shoulders sunk. His eyes were still fixed on hers and she couldn’t help but stare into them. She stroked his cheek and leant in closer, brushing her lips against his. “Friends?”

“Friends,” he whispered, his breath tickled her cheek.

The kiss had been a mistake. She knew that the second she felt his breath on her skin. His eyes never moved from hers. She lifted both hands to his cheeks and kissed him again, a quiet desperation surging her emotions and pushing her deeper and deeper in the moment.

“Vic, what...”

“This isn’t a relationship,” she said into his mouth, following it up with another kiss. “It’s just two people, being together.”

“Is that really what you want?”

“All I know is I have all these feelings inside of me and I just wanna feel something physical.” Her chest heaved with every breath, her body urging her to not ignore the passion building inside. “If it’s what you want.”

His lips collided with hers. She stumbled backwards, his mouth encouraging her to continue her conquest. She tugged at the edges of his tshirt, pulling it up and over his abdomen. Her breath hitched in her throat as she pulled it up and over his head.

“But this isn’t just a kiss,” he said, his hands paused on the buckle of her jeans.

“No.” She pushed herself against him, her tongue dancing across his mouth. He stumbled backwards onto the couch and she straddled him. “If you’re okay with this.”

He wrapped his hands around her back and trailed his fingers under her sweater, across her skin. His lips dotted her skin. “I’m okay.”

X

She woke up around four in the morning, her heart racing and her body screaming at her. She didn’t regret being in Sullivan’s bed, being naked, and sweaty. She didn’t regret the moment of weakness that pulled them closer than they’d ever been before. But falling asleep had sent her into her dream world, where Ripley was still alive, and her heart wasn’t broken.

She climbed out of the bed and pulled on some of Sullivan’s shorts and a tshirt. The apartment was silent. The only sound she could hear was the distant rumbling of pipes and a couple of cars driving down the street outside. She made herself a coffee, despite the early hour of the morning.

She didn’t know it she wanted to be there when he woke up. The conversation that followed sex was one she didn’t usually shy away from, but it was Sullivan, and she’d gone against everything she’d told him.

“You’re up early.”

She jumped. His voice was deeper than usual. He hovered in the kitchen doorway, watching her stir her coffee. Under any other circumstance, she’d have found it romantic that he was watching her, taking in their connection.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He closed the space between them and pulled her into his arms. She settled quickly against his body and wondered how their night of passion was suddenly feeling so much more like a relationship.

She pulled away. “I can’t.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“I’m not.”

“It doesn’t mean we can be together.”

“I know.”

“Hugging me, it’s not going to make a difference.”

He sighed. “I didn’t think it would.”

“It feels like it does.”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his whole face contorted. “We slept together. It was...amazing. But you’re not ready for more and I knew that before we did it.”

He snaked his arm around her shoulder, and she ducked down and away from him. “Please, Sully. I don’t want to feel like I’m breaking your heart.”

“You’re not!”

She wasn’t convinced. His face lit up in a way she’d never seen before. Whatever weight he always had on his shoulders was lifted. He repeated his assertion but the conviction in his voice had gone.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I agonised over the ending of this story, but here we are. Tomorrow I will begin working on my big story, which will hopefully be far better planned than this one. Unfortunately now I want to write a sequel to this one, too. I hope you enjoy the ending...

Hughes stood on the bridge overlooking the barn. She didn’t often spend time contemplating her friends, or her work, but today she needed a moment. Below, Miller and Gibson were joking around. The laughter filled her with joy. She gripped the bar in front of her until her fingers paled. She loved Station 19 like it was a person; it was home. If bricks and mortar mattered, then Station 19 mattered the most. More than her apartment, the only thing she’d every truly been able to call her own. The apartment she worked so hard to afford.

Station 19 was the place she shared with Ripley, and the family who surrounded her when he died. But his death left her with the greatest despair she’d ever faced, and she wondered how she could move on without breaking her heart further.

Before she arrived in Seattle, she was lonely. So lonely. She didn’t know anyone and didn’t know much about life. The paths she’d walked, the life she’d lived since had given her something she’d never had before.

“You okay?”

Montgomery stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows tugged down with that sympathetic expression she’d seen more often than she liked in recent months.

“I love you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in close. He didn’t move at first. After a while he slipped his hands around her back and squeezed her tightly.

“What’s going on?”

“I can’t do it anymore.”

“Vic, you’re scaring me.” He stepped back; his hands still tucked around her sides. She could feel the tears stroll down her cheeks. He wiped them away. “What are you planning on doing?”

She shook her head vehemently. “Not that. Never that.”

“Are you sure?” She nodded. “Then what’s going on?”

“I’m leaving.”

He let go of her. Two steps back. His eyes were filled with questions he didn’t ask, and she didn’t have the energy to figure out.

“I need some time.”

“You can have time without leaving me.”

She sighed and ran her palm across his cheek. “I’m not leaving you. I could never leave you. You’re my best friend. Without you I don’t know how I’d have survived the last few months.”

“Is this because of Sullivan?”

She lowered her head. They hadn’t spoken in almost a week. Except necessary orders barked at her through the radio or at a scene. She met Montgomery’s eyes again. “I slept with him.”

“You...what?”

“It was everything I wanted it to be, but it’s everything I don’t need right now.” She leant back on the bar and stared out across the barn once more. Montgomery joined her. Gibson had resumed cleaning and Miller had disappeared. “Part of me wants to be with him, but the rest of me is still too broken.”

“I get you,” Montgomery said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You can only move as fast as you’re comfortable to.”

“I don’t wanna leave,” she said, twisting round and leaning her elbow against the bar. Fresh tears skirted down her face. “This place...these people.”

“I know.”

He did know. They all knew.

X

“Come on, Frankel, you’re being ridiculous.” Sullivan paused as he entered his office, his cellphone against his ear. Hughes sat in a chair, waiting, wondering how to word what she needed to say. He sighed. “I need to call you back. Bye.”

Hughes stood up. Stretching as tall as she could beside him. She didn’t want to cry, so she chewed the inside of her lip until it hurt. She needed to say what she was there to say, without crumbling.

“My resignation is on your desk.”

“Excuse me?” He leant forward, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. He reached out his hand then lowered it again. He moved around his desk and sat down, holding the envelope in his fingers. “You’re leaving? Because of us?”

“No.” She sunk into the chair opposite. “You’re one of the reasons to stay.”

“Then why are you going?”

“Last night I was going through some more of Lucas’s things and I found a list of places he visited, and a list of places he wanted to see.”

He dropped the enveloped, linked his fingers and rested them over his stomach. “What kind of places?”

“The Great Wall of China, Budapest, Dubrovnik, Seoul, Bangkok. There were a dozen different places all over the world that he wanted to visit. It was typed but he wrote on it. He changed the heading to ‘Places to Go with Vic’ and at the bottom he included Paris. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. I know it’s cliched, but I want to go.”

“You’re going to travel around the world?” He sat upright; his hands pressed against the desk.

“It took me years to know who I am. Right when everything was slotting into place, Lucas died. I need to learn who I am, who I can be, without him. I can’t do that fighting fires or bandaging up people who fall out of trees. I need to do this. I need some time away from real life.”

He picked up the envelope again and gave her resignation letter a cursory glance, before ripping it in half.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t cut off a job you love because you need some time out.” He tossed the letter into the trash can under his desk. “If you need time, then take the time, but I want you to know your job will be here when you get back. We will be here. I’ll clear it with the department, you may not be eligible for an official sabbatical, but I think under the circumstances, we can look at holding your position open for maybe six months. If after six months you decide you want to resign, then I will support that decision.”

“Thank you.” She stood. A weight shifted from her shoulders. He walked around the desk; his arms outstretched. Without a second thought, she walked into his arms and he wrapped them around her. “I’m sorry we can’t be together.”

“Me too, but I understand the need to get away.”

X

The room was as noisy as ever as everyone sat at the table eating. Hughes stood on the sidelines, hungry, but not yet ready to eat. She walked around the table, enjoying the carefree conversation going on between her colleagues. By the window, she stopped. Her chair was empty. After a moment’s pause, everyone’s eyes landed on her.

“Guys, I have something I need to say.” She shoved her hands in her pockets to stop herself from wringing them. She smiled. “Today’s my last shift at Station 19.”

In unison, everyone said “What?” as though practiced.

“I’m going travelling for six months. I need to get away, I need some time.”

“Are you serious?” Bishop asked, standing up and hugging her.

Herrera joined her, wrapping her arms around them both. “I can’t believe it.”

“You’re really going?” Miller asked, joining them.

A moment later, everyone was piled around her, questions flowed back and forth, and she answered them as best as she could. Anderson stood back, watching from the side.

“What about you and Sullivan?” Herrera asked.

“Hughes and Sullivan?” Gibson asked, his mouth dropped open. “As in…?”

“We’re just friends,” Hughes said. “I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“But you and Sullivan…?” Gibson asked again. Bishop smacked him on the arm, and he yelled out. “Hey! That hurt.”

“Gonna miss you,” Miller said, hugging her again.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Dean. I’m gonna miss everyone.” She glanced across the room at Anderson. “Even you, Christopher.”

He tilted his head to one side and closed the gap between him and the rest of the team. “I won’t miss your hard ass drills.”

“Yeah you will,” she said, grinning.

He shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“Drinks tonight,” Montgomery said. “Even though nobody else knew, I’ve organised a little par-tay for Vic. We’ve got loads of people coming, I told them it was your birthday. So you’d better all be there.”

X

After a few drinks and plenty of conversation, Hughes went outside for some fresh air. She felt at ease for the first time in weeks. Everyone she loved, everyone who mattered, was there to wish her well and it was the best sendoff she could have asked for.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Anderson asked, slipping his arm into his jacket.

“Good, you?”

“Fine,” he said. “I spoke to my mom.”

“Oh, right.” In the drama of her trip planning, she’d almost forgotten about the last unanswered question. In some ways she didn’t want to know, she didn’t want to have to be faced with the knowledge that Ripley lied to her, or at least omitted something so significant. “What did she say?”

“She was heartbroken when they split up. She told him she didn’t want him to be involved and by the time she changed her mind I was already a few years old. She thought it might be too damaging to introduce another parent when it could be disruptive given that we lived in another state. He wrote to her from time to time to ask how I was doing but she never wrote back. When I was eight or nine, she received a letter from a lawyer about custody rights, but she didn’t put his name on my birth certificate so at the time he didn’t have any legal right to ask for custody.”

“Oh.” Hughes sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Believe me, I’ve probably said enough for the both of us. Mom’s well aware that she did something terrible, and since my dad died, she’s been regretful ever since.”

“I want to say she deserves to feel regretful, but she’s your mom…” Hughes trailed off.

“I just wanted you to know before you leave,” he said. “I really enjoyed getting to know you, Vic, and getting to know more about my dad.”

“Likewise, I mean, getting to know you.” She pulled him in for a quick hug. “Keep in touch, yeah? I wanna know how you’re doing. Maybe by the time I get back you’ll have a handle on things.”

“Hey!” he said, in a jokey harsh tone. “I know exactly what I’m doing thank you very much.”

“You’re getting there,” she said, patting him on the back. “Now get inside before anybody misses you. I think Jenna from Station 7 has her eye on you.”

“The hot blonde?” She nodded. He opened the door. “I’ll let you know how I get on.”

“Where have you been?” Montgomery asked, slipping out of the bar as Anderson went in. “You’re missing your party!”

She shrugged. “I’m just gonna go. I have to be up early for my flight, and I’d rather not have a big fuss.”

“No, Vic!” He tugged at her arm. “Not yet. I’m not ready for you to leave me.”

“What are you talking about? We’re gonna Facetime every day, and you’re coming out to Cambodia in a month. You’ll be too busy to notice I’m gone.”

He tilted his head to the side, his nostrils flared. He pulled her into his arms. His words were laced with tears. “Don’t be a stranger, call me any time, even if I’m asleep, or on a call.”

“I’m not gonna call you while you’re saving lives,” she said, burrowing her face against his neck. “But you save all the lives for me, okay? Make people happy.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“And look after Anderson. He’s eager, and he’s young, but he’s vulnerable too.”

“He’s vulnerable or you’re mothering him?”

“I’m not his mother!” She rolled her eyes. “Just, look out for him, please.”

“Okay.” He hugged her again and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He returned to the bar leaving her alone in the street. She set off walking. Away from her friends, her family, and towards the adventure of a lifetime. Wherever it took her, whatever happened next, she was ready to find out what unexpected things life had to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for your support during this story. I'm new to the fandom and your support has been amazing. I really appreciate being welcomed with open arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I really appreciate any connections made with people reading my stories. Whether you leave kudos, or a comment, or just read it. Thank you.


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